Asean

ASEAN Literature
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ASEAN Literature
Identification
The name "Thailand" is associated with the
dominant ethnic group, Thai. Thailand was
never under European colonial rule. It was an
absolute monarchy until 1932, when it became
a constitutional monarchy. In 1939 the
country's name was changed from Siam to
Thailand. Military dictators ruled the nation
until the early 1970s; the military remained a
powerful force in national politics into the early
1990s. Since that time, its role has diminished,
and a new constitution was adopted in 1997.
The military governments after World War II
promoted rapid economic development and
attempted to assimilate ethnic minorities. Rapid
economic growth continued until the late 1990s,
when the economic boom of the early part of
the decade came to an abrupt end. As part of a
trend toward devolution of authority, the
democratic governments of the 1990s adopted
more liberal policies with regard to ethnic
minorities. However, members of ethnic
minorities continue to face many problems in
regard to political rights and economic security.
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Location and Geography

The Kingdom of Thailand has an area of 198,114 square
miles (513,115 square kilometers). The country is
commonly divided into four main regions and borders
Burma, Laos, Cambodia, and Malaysia. The northern region
is hilly, with much of its population concentrated in upland
valleys and the flood plains of rivers; the dominant
geographic feature is the Khorat Plateau. The southern
region is a narrow isthmus with hills running down the
center.
The Thai (also known as the Central Tai) live mainly in the
central region, with closely related groups of Tai-speaking
peoples occupying most of the remainder of the nation.
Smaller ethnic groups are scattered throughout the country,
especially in the north and the northeast. Bangkok has been
the capital since the late eighteenth century, when it
replaced the earlier capital of Ayutthaya, which was sacked
by Burmese invaders in 1767. With a population of almost
10 million, Bangkok is the most important city politically
and economically. About twenty smaller regional cities have
populations of two hundred to three hundred thousand.
Demography
The population estimate for 2000 is approximately
62 million. There are about 75 ethnic groups, and
approximately 84 percent of the population is Thai,
including people from other Tai-speaking ethnic
groups; the Thai, constitute about 36 percent of the
population. The Thai-Lao account for about 32
percent of the population; their territory formerly
was part of the Lao kingdom. The Lanna Thai
account for about 8 percent of the national
population. The Pak Thai constitute about 8 percent
of the population. Other major ethnic groups
include Chinese (about 12 percent of the
population), Malay-speaking Muslims (about 3
percent), and Khmer (about 2 percent). The
majority of the Chinese live in central Thailand,
especially in urban areas. The Malay-speaking
Muslims live near to the border with Malaysia. The
Khmer live near the Cambodian border.
There are communities of Korean- and Urdu-
speaking peoples in Bangkok, and there is a small
population of Mon in central Thailand. Various
peoples, commonly designated as hill tribes, inhabit
the northern mountain areas. The total hill tribe
population is about 500,000, with the Karen being
the largest group (about 350,000). There are
several settlements of Palaung (about 5,000 people)
near the Burmese border and several communities
of Khmu, Phai, Mal, and Mlabri (about 75,000
intotal) near the border with Laos.
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ASEAN Literature
Linguistic Affiliation
Thai is a Daic language in the southwestern Tai group.
Other Thai groups speak related southern and east-
central Thai languages. Large-scale Chinese migration
took place in the nineteenth century. Most of the
Chinese in the country speak dialects of Min Nan
Chinese. There are twenty-four Mon-Khmer-speaking
groups, whose languages can be subdivided into four
groups: Monic, Aslian, Eastern Mon-Khmer, and
Northern Mon-Khmer.
Seven Austronesian languages are spoken, all of which

belong to the Malayic Malayo-Polynesian group. The
main Austronesian language is Pattani Malay, which is
spoken by about 2.5 million people in the southern
region. The Pattani Malay, Malay, and Kedah Malay
populations live in an area associated with the
kingdom of Patani, which fell under Thai control in
1786.
The nineteen Tibeto-Burman-speaking groups include

nine groups that speak Karen languages. Three
Hmong-Mien languages are spoken in the north.
Various migrant communities speak Korean, Japanese,
Tamil, and Urdu.
Thai is the national language and the medium for

Symbolism
education and mass communication. It is widely used
byThe
speakers of other
most potent Tai languages
national symbolsand
are isthe
a second
king and images associated with Buddhism. The
language for most other people.
monarch serves as the most important symbol of national identity and unity. Images of the king
appear frequently in public and in people's homes, and he is featured often on television and the
other mass media. His image is on all banknotes and coins. Showing disrespect for the king is a
Read more: https://www.everyculture.com/Sa-
serious legal offense. Images of the Buddha and shrines are found in public buildings (including
Th/Thailand.html#ixzz61cjkj3gQ
schools and government offices) and homes as well as temples. The promotion of Buddhism as a
symbol of national identity has met with opposition from the Muslim minority.
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ASEAN Literature
Food in Daily Life
Rice is the staple food at every meal for most people. All food is brought to the table at once
rather than being served in courses. A meal will include rice, dishes with gravy, side dishes,
soup, and a salad. Whereas in central and southern Thailand polished white rice is eaten, in the
north and northeast people eat glutinous or sticky rice. Fish and shellfish are popular. Curries
are eaten throughout the country, but there are regional varieties. Northern and northeastern
food is similar to that of Laos and consists of more meat, including meat served as sausages, or
as larb (a salad is usually made of raw meat). Chinese food has influenced the national cuisine,
especially in regard to noodle dishes. Sweets are eaten as snacks. A popular snack is green
papaya salad. In the past, there were marked differences between the food of the common
people and that of the nobility. Women in noble households were proficient at decorative
carving of vegetables and fruits. In recent decades, this practice has become popular among the
middle classes. Whereas commercial alcoholic drinks are common throughout the country, non-
commercial alcohol made from rice is still drunk.
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1. Thailand is the only

Southeast Asian country
that was never colonized
by an European country.
In fact, in the Thai
language, the name of the
country is Prathet Thai
which means “land of the
free.” Very fitting!
2. Thailand is where you’ll find 3. Males were all Buddhist monks for
both the smallest and the largest a while. There was a time when all
creatures. The smallest mammal in young men in Thailand (including
the world, the bumblebee bat, calls royalty) were required to become
Thailand home. You can also find Buddhist monks–even if only for a
the largest fish, the whale shark, in short period of time –before they
Thai waters. turned 20. This practice is not
observed as it used to be these days,
however.
4. You’re lucky that you know
Bangkok as “Bangkok.” Its real
name is one of the longest names of
a place in the world, made up of
Pali and Sanskrit root
words: Krungthepmahanakhon
Amonrattanakosin
Mahintharayutthaya
Mahadilokphop
Noppharatratchathaniburirom
Udomratchaniwetmahasathan
Amonphimanawatansathit
Sakkathattiyawitsanukamp rasit.
What does that name mean? It
means “City of Angels, Great City of
5. People often marvel at the forests and Immortals, Magnificent City of the
jungles of Thailand, but there used to be more. Nine Gems, Seat of the King, City of
What most people don’t realize is that over Royal Palaces, Home of Gods
one hundred years ago, nearly all of northern Incarnate, Erected by Visvakarman
Thailand was covered in hardwood forest. at Indra’s Behest.”
Today, about a quarter of that forest is left.
Only Singapore has lost more trees. For this
reason, logging is completely banned in
Thailand.
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6. One-tenth of the entire population of

Thailand lives in Bangkok. It is the capital
of this great nation, and, of course, the
largest city.
7. Thailand loves its King, and

shows great respect for the
monarchy. The well-known
Hollywood movie “The King
and I” was never shown in Thai
theaters because it was
considered to be derogatory to
the King. How serious are they
about their King? Thailand has
the lese majeste rule, meaning
that if you commit
disrespectful acts toward the
King, you could be imprisoned
for treason.
9. There are about 35,000 temples in
8. His Majesty King Bhumibol Thailand. Thailand is truly a land of temples.
Adulyadej was born in Cambridge,
Visiting them requires modest clothing,
Massachusetts in the United States.
meaning no shorts or sleeveless shirts.
He is the gra ndson of King
Chulalongkorn or Rama V. The King
is highly educated, with an
engineering degree from
Switzerland. His grandfather was 10. Showing respect for another
credited with bringing modernism person’s head is imperative in
to Thailand.
Thailand. The head is considered
to be the most important part of
the body, and so Thai culture
forbids touching anyone on the
head (even a child). Should you
meet someone who is older or
more important than you, it is
best to lower your head in
deference to show proper
respect.
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THAILAND LITERATURE
Thai Literature was traditionally heavily influenced by Indian culture. Thailand’s national epic is
a version of the Ramayana called the Ramakien. A number of versions of the epic were lost in the
destruction of Ayutthaya in 1767. Three versions currently exist: one of these was prepared under the
supervision (and partly written by) King Rama I. His son, Rama II, rewrote some parts for khon drama.
The main differences from the original are an extended role for the monkey god Hanuman and the
addition of a happy ending.
Early Thai literature was primarily concerned with religion and until the mid-19th century was
in verse form. Thai verse was written exclusively by the aristocracy or royalty, the only educated
classes able to do so. The tradition of authorship by kings can be seen in all periods of the country’s
history, from Sukhothai up to Bangkok. Two Chakri monarchs, King Rama II (1809-1824) and King
Rama VI (1910-1925), were distinguished poets and stalwart patrons of Thai arts.
One of the most important Thai literary works is the Ramakian, a uniquely Thai version of the
Indian epic, the Ramayana. Early Thai versions of the Ramakian were lost in the destruction of
Ayutthaya. The longest of the three present versions was written in 1798 by the first Chakri King, Rama
I, and a group of intimates, who incorporated Thai and Buddhist elements into it to preserve the oral
knowledge of Ayutthaya state rites and traditions. Indeed, King Rama I’s Ramakian is the major
historical source of medieval Thai courtly traditions.
King Rama II composed two episodes of the Ramakian

for classical drama purposed and wrote several other
epic poems, including the Inao, a romance with a
Javanese background. The Inao is a treasure trove of
historical information on early 19th-century Thai
customs, habits, and manners and figures prominently
in the repertoire of classical drama.
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Both King Rama V and Rama VI were also distinguished

writers whose creativity contained the rich intellectual heritage in
several proses and verse forms. Among outstanding literary works
of King Rama V were Ngo Pa and the well-known collection of Klai
Ban or Far Away from Home, on his journey to Europe in 1906-7.
Those well-known works of King Rama VI were Matthana Phatha,
Phra non-Kham Luang, and several patriotic articles entitled,
Muang Thai Chong Tun Thoet or Wake up-all Thais, etc.
An outstanding writer and scholar was Phya Anuman Rajadhon, who was born in 1888 and
died in 1969. Interested in all aspects of Thai culture, from language to folklore, Phya Anuman wrote
dozens of books on such subjects and served as an inspiration to numerous younger Thais who are
now prominent in academic fields.
Moving into the modern age about 1900 onward, most of the Thai readers are well
acquainted with the work of Dokmaisod whose real name is M.L. Boobpha Nimmanhaemindha. She
was a novelist in the pioneering age. Her best-known works were for example, Phu Di, Nung Nai Roi,
Nit, Chaichana Khong Luang Naruban, etc. Many of her works have been assigned as books for
external reading for students at the secondary and tertiary levels of education today.
Malai Choopinit, in his pen name Mae Anong and Noi Intanon, was an expert in his own right
in both full length and short stories. Thung Maharat, a novel based on rural life, and Long Phrai,
which is about the adventure in the forest, are some of his best-known literary works.
Mai Muang Doem the pen name of Kan Phungbun Na Ayudhya, whose novel Khun Suk, won
much admiration during his time and was on several occasions adapted for television drama.
Yakhop, a pen name of Chot Praephan, whose most popular work is Phu Chana Sip Thit, a
legend of Burmese royal court, which has been adopted by many scriptwriters for television drama
as well as stage drama enjoyed by nationwide audiences.
Sri Burapha, a popular novelist, whose real name was Kularb Sai Pradit. His most famous work is a
love story entitled Khang Lang Phap, or literally Behind the Portrait.
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Another leading literary figure is former Prime Minister

M.R. Kukrit Pramoj, whose works have been prolific. They
appeared in various forms including short story author. His
collection of short stories, the so-called Lai Chiwit, is considered
an exemplary work embodying the finest Thai prose, an
appreciation of which is essential for the appraisal of Thai
contemporary literature. His most outstanding novel, Si
Phandin, or Four Reigns, revolves around the court life from the
reign of King Rama V to Rama VIII offering a vivid portrait of
Thai society in those long years of the four interesting reigns.
Krisna Asokesin, or Sukanya Cholasuk, is another very successful and famous novelist. She has
written a collection of over one hundred novels on love and complexities of family life. She has won both
domestic and international awards. Her well-known novels, Rua Manut and Tawan Tok Din, won the
SEATO literary Awards. She was also awarded the National Artist status.
Seni Saowaphong or Sakdichai Bamrungphong is the doyen of modern writers. His novels and
short stories deal with class conflicts, exploitation, and urban society. Pisat, Evil Spirits, his most popular
novel, is about the conflict between new and old generations. He also won the National Artist status.
The late Suwanee Sukhontha, a former painter, was a highly successful woman writer. Her best
novel, Khao Chu Kan, His Name is Kan, won a SEATO literary Award. It is about a young doctor who
sacrifices a brilliant career in one of the nation’s leading hospitals to work in a rural area where peasants
have no access to modern medicines.
Suwat Woradilok, a novelist under the pen name Rapeeporn, whose work under the title of
Phandin Mai is well-known among novel readers. Kamsing Srinok, who is also known under the pen
name of Lao Kam Hom, is a low-profile but powerful writer, whose short stories recreate northeastern
village life. His most acclaimed short story, Fa Bo Kan is about the hardship the Northeasterners must
face during a cruel drought. Both Suwat Woradilok and Kamsing Srinok won the National Artist status.
Kampoon Boonthavi, who wrote Luk Isan; Chart Korbjitti, whose works are Kham Phiphaksa, The
Judgement, and Wela; Vanich Charungkichanand, with his collection of short stories entitled Soi Dieo
Kan, are all awardees of the Southeast Asian Writers Award (SEAWRITE).
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Other well-known contemporary female novelists whose names are worth mentioning here are
: the late Supa Devakul, who was not only a popular known novelist but also a stage and television
playwright; Wimol Siripaibul, with her well-known pen names Thomayanti and Rose-la-rain, Penkae
Wong Sa-Nga or her real name Penkae Vajanasuntorn, Nopakun Jittayasotorn, under her pen name Man
Supiti, and Winita Dithiyon, under her pen name Wor Winichaikul.
Angkarn Kalayanapong is a leading Thai contemporary poet whose language is most eloquent
and impressive. One of his distinguished works, Lamnam Phu Kradung draws great admiration as its
literary work paints the beauty and vitality of nature and campaigns against environmental
degradations. He has won both the SEAWRITE Award and the National Artist status.
Another popular Thai contemporary poet, Naowarat

Phongpaiboon, writes in a traditional style although his topics
are current. His odes to such emotions as love, despair, and
hope are laced with a beautiful lyric. He has won both the
SEAWRITE Award and the National Artist status. His most
famous work, entitled Khian Phaendin, is the fruit of his journey
to all corners of Thailand from where he recorded the beauty
and admiration of local landscapes in words and wins utmost
popularity among the Thais.
The transformation of the world by science and

technology is one of the things that separates present-day
literary works from those of the past. Writers depend not only
upon a general public perception of reality, as in the past, but
also upon their own instincts and insights which they express
as a kind to personal vision, sometimes to make their readers
see and think in a new way.
It was inevitable that Thai artists in the age of technology would find new subjects and forms
expression in addition to more foreign influences, the arts have begun to move in different directions
which modern Thais can relate to. yet the beauty of the old has not lost its ability to inspire, and despite
the inroads made by modern culture, it continues to hold its own and even to show signs of revival in
many areas.
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POETRY THAT CATCHES THE SPIRIT OF

THAILAND
Poetry has been popular in Thailand throughout history, with several Thai kings being skilled
poets as well as leaders. Often said to be the least Westernised form of the Thai arts, here are ten
popular Thai poems to know about.
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Phra Aphai Mani
Phra Aphai Mani is one of Thailand’s most well-known epic
poems. It was written over a course of 20 years in the early 1800s
by Sunthorn Phu, the national poet at that time. With 48,700 lines, it
is the longest poem in the Thai language and has become part of
Thai folklore. Several movies have been made about the story,
which is set in a fantastical realm where supernatural beings and
mythical creatures roam. The main characters are a young merman
with a magical flute and a female giant. It tells a story of love, deceit,
violence, magic, revenge, and family. Some people believe that the
SYPNOSIS fictitious poem has an underlying anti-colonialism message.
Phra Aphai Mani (พระอภัยมณี ) (shortened to Aphai) and his brother, Sisuwan (ศรีสุวรรณ), are
Thai princes. Their father sends them to study abroad, wishing to let them enthrone after he passes
away. Sisuwan masters the martial art of sword fighting, whilst Phra Aphai Mani masters playing a
magical flute (klui, ขลุย่ ) that either puts people to sleep or kills them. When they return home, their
father is infuriated by the fact that what they learned was not useful for rulers, as he expected, and so he
expels them from the kingdom.
One day, while Aphai's companions were lulled to sleep by the sound of his flute, a female
ogress (yak) named Nang Phisuea Samut (นางผีเสือ
้ สมุทร), came and took Aphai away to her cave. She
disguised herself as a beautiful maiden and Aphai fell in love with her. They lived together and gave
birth to their son, Sinsamut (สินสมุทร). When Aphai found out that his wife was actually an ogress, he
decided to flee with his son. He was assisted by a family of mermaids, a father, mother, and daughter.
The father and mother were caught and eaten by the ogress. The mermaid daughter took Aphai and
Sinsamut to Koh Kaeo Phitsadan (lit: Weirdly Wonder Island) where a (ruesee)(ฤาษี : hermit) saved
them from the ogress. Aphai married the mermaid who partially helped him escape and had a son,
named Sutsakhon (สุดสาคร).
One day, a junk carrying King Silarat (ท้าวสิลราช) and Princess Suwanmali (สุวรรณมาลี), passed
the island where Aphai lives. The princess was engaged to the European Prince, Usaren (อุศเรน)
of Lanka. Aphai and Sinsamut asked to join the ship in order to get home, but the ogress saw them and
got infuriated, attacking them and killed King Silarat. Aphai managed to escape and found himself on a
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shore. Then, he played his magic flute that killed the ogress. Afterwards, he met Prince Usaren, who was
looking for a fiancée.
Meanwhile, Sinsamut, escaping the ogress, swam with the princess Suwanmali to an island
where they met Sisuwan and his daughter; Arun Ratsami (อรุณรัศมี). Together, they went in search of
Aphai. When they found Aphai and Usaren safe, the princess Suwanmali refused to engaged to Usaren,
which caused the two parties to fight and Prince Usaren fled to his homeland of Lanka.
Aphai later moved to the kingdom of Pharuek where the queen asked him to enthrone for the
next king. Angry at Phra Aphai for giving her up to Usaren, Princess Suwanmali fled and become a nun
in a monastery. But, with the trick of her own maid; Walee (นางวาลี), Suwanmali decided to leave the
nunhood and marry Aphai. They had twin daughters named Soisuwan (สร้อยสุวรรณ) and Chanthasuda
(ฉันทสุดา).
Years later, Usaren and his father attacked the kingdom of Pharuek. Usaren's father was killed
and so did Usaren who died from being heart-broken by learning that Suwanmali married to Aphai. The
throne of Lanka later fell to Usaren's little sister, Laweng (นางละเวง). The beautiful blonde-haired
Laweng decided to take revenge for Usaren. She proclaimed to all neighbouring cities; whoever kills
Aphai of Phareuk, she will grant her son and her kingdom of Lanka. Seeing the armies surrounded,
Aphai fled with Laweng and eventually won her heart, whilst the war continued until the hermit came
and helped to stop the war between them.
Yuan Phai
Yuan Phai is another epic poem. It is one of few
pieces of literature that survives from the
early Ayutthaya period. The poem tells the story of
historic tensions between the Ayutthaya and Lanna
Kingdoms and a battle in the 1470s between the two
kingdoms in Si Satchanalai, near Sukhothai. It celebrates
the victory of King Boromma Trailokanat, the ruler of
Ayutthaya at that time, over the King Tilokkarat and the
Yuan people of the Lanna Kingdom. The poem’s name
means ‘Defeat of the Yuan’. Despite the poem indicating
glowing victory, tensions in the area remained for almost
another one hundred years.

Summary of the poem
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The poem has four parts: a eulogy of King Trailokkanat (preamble and stanzas 1-60); a summary of key
events from 1431 to c.1466 (stanzas 61-82); a main narrative of events from 1451 to the battle (stanzas
83 to 266); the battle and celebration of victory (stanzas 267 to 295).
The eulogy
The king's knowledge of Buddhism is presented through a one-to-nine series of numbered lists
of Buddhist concepts. His skill in warfare is vaunted by comparison to the Hindu gods and characters
from the Mahabharata. His other skills are celebrated include prediction of future events, literary
composition and recitation, debating skills on religious issues, knowledge of history, and insight into
the minds of others. The eulogy ends with the poet apologizing for his own shortcomings in composing
the work.
Summary of key events
King Trailokanat is born in 1431 when his father leads an army to Angkor. On accession, he
builds a stupa for his father's remains. Yutthisathian rebels, and several skirmishes follow. On the
death of his mother in 1460, Trailokanat relocates to Phitsanulok, and in 1464-6 is ordained at Wat
Chulamani.
Main narrative
The same events are recapped in slightly greater detail (stanzas

83 to 104). King Tilokkarat of Chiang Mai is portrayed as a bad king for
overthrowing his father, killing his own son, and foolishly mistreating
Muen Dong Nakhon who he had sent to rule Chiang Chuen (stanzas
105-124). Muen Dong's widow appeals to Trailokanat for help. Troops
from Tilokkarat's allies, Nan and Phrae, take control of Chiang Chuen,
propelling many nobles and men to flee and join Trailokanat in
Phitsanulok (stanzas 125-152). Tilokkarat appoints a new ruler in
Chiang Chuen, Jae Hom, who readies strong defenses with
reinforcements from Lampang (stanzas 153-174). Trailokanat readies
his army at Phitsanulok, travels up the River Nan, and then marches
towards Chiang Chuen (stanzas 175-201). The army is described,
including the infantry (stanzas 203-210), the elephant brigade,
portrayed in great detail (stanzas 211-248), the cavalry (stanzas 249-
255), and the march (stanzas 256-266).
The narrative breaks off in the middle of describing the march

and resumes in the thick of the battle. A section has been lost,
inadequately substituted by a short insertion in prose.
Khun Chang Khun Phaen

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Khun Chang Khun Phaen is an
epic poem about two men: Khun Chang
ASEAN Literature
Eventually, the King of Ayutthaya tells Wanthong to choose between the two men and settle
matters once and for all. She cannot and is sentenced to death. Originating from Thai folklore, the
poem was originally an oral tradition, only being written down in the early 1870s. Many people
believe that it is based on true events from the early 1500s, as geographical places and historic
events mentioned are accurate. Furthermore, most literature from this period was about Gods,
Buddhism, and royalty, whereas this poem has a more real-life focus. Most Thai people learn the
poem in school.
Synopsis
Khun Chang, Phlai Kaeo (who later is given the title, Khun Phaen), and Nang Phim Philalai (who
later changes her name to Wanthong) are childhood friends in Suphanburi. Khun Phaen is handsome
and intelligent, but poor because the king has executed his father and seized their property. He enters
the monkhood as a novice to get educated, excelling at military skills and love magic. Khun Chang is ugly
and stupid, but rich and well-connected at the Ayutthaya court.
By age 15, Phim is the belle of Suphanburi. She meets Phlai Kaeo when putting food in his
almsbowl at Songkran (Thai New Year). Sparks fly. They have a passionate affair, with him shuttling
between the wat (Buddhist monastery) and her bedroom. Khun Chang is also smitten by Phim. He
competes for her using his wealth and status. He offers to give her mother Phim's weight in gold. After
Phlai Kaeo and Phim are married, Khun Chang maneuvers the king to send Phlai Kaeo on military
service, and then claims he is dead. When Phlai Kaeo returns victorious, Khun Chang plots to have him
banished from Ayutthaya for negligence on government service.
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Phim (now Wanthong) resists Khun Chang's advance. But when Phlai Kaeo (now Khun Phaen)
returns from war with another wife, they have a jealous quarrel. Wanthong goes to live with Khun
Chang, enjoying his devotion and the comforts afforded by his wealth.
When Khun Phaen's second wife, Laothong, is taken into the palace by the king, Khun Phaen
regrets abandoning Wanthong. He breaks into Khun Chang's house at the dead of night and takes
Wanthong away. At first she is reluctant to leave her comfortable life, but the passion rekindles, and
they flee to an idyllic but frugal sojourn in the forest.
Khun Chang, furious with the elopement, tries to frame Khun Phaen on the ground of treason.
He tells the king that Khun Phaen is mounting a rebellion. The king sends an army which Khun Phaen
defeats, killing two of its officers. A warrant is issued for his arrest. When Wanthong becomes pregnant,
Khun Phaen decides to leave the forest and give himself up. At the court trial scene, the charges of
rebellion are disproved. Khun Phaen is acquitted and Khun Chang is heavily fined.
Khun Phaen nevertheless angers the king by asking for the release of Laothong. He is jailed, and
festers in prison for around twelve years. Khun Chang abducts Wanthong and they again live together in
Suphanburi. Wanthong gives birth to Phlai Ngam, her son with Khun Phaen. When Phlai Ngam is eight,
Khun Chang tries to kill him. Phlai Ngam escapes to live in Kanchanaburi with his grandmother who
teaches him from Khun Phaen's library.
When the kings of Ayutthaya and Chiang Mai quarrel over a beautiful daughter of the King of
Vientiane, Phlai Ngam volunteers to lead an army to Chiang Mai, and successfully petitions for Khun
Phaen's release. They capture the King of Chiang Mai, and return with the Vientiane princess and a
great haul of booty. Khun Phaen now gains status as the governor of Kanchanaburi. Phlai Ngam is
appointed Phra Wai, an officer in the royal pages.
Khun Chang gets drunk at Phra Wai's wedding, and the old rivalry returns. Phra Wai abducts
Wanthong from Khun Chang's house, prompting Khun Chang to petition the king for redress. At the
subsequent trial, the king demands that Wanthong decide between Khun Chang and Khun Phaen. She
cannot, and is dumb-struck. The king orders her execution. Phra Wai pleads successfully with the king
for a reprieve, but the order arrives fractionally too late to avoid her execution.
Ramakien
Finally, the Ramakien is 17 | P a g e
Thailand’s
national epic poem. It is the Thai version of
the Ramayana, an ancient Indian Hindu epic. The
ASEAN Literature
History of the Ramakien
The characters and the story told in the Ramakien are based on the Ramayana, which is a
holy Hindu text. Like most sacred texts, there is often an overlap between mystical and realistic events,
people and places.
The Ramayana would have spread throughout India and into the Khmer kingdoms, which
had contact with the early Siamese kingdom of Sukhothai. When the Sukhothai kingdom was absorbed
by the growth of Ayutthaya, the Ramayana stories were included as well and were written down for the
first time in Siam, but most editions were lost when the former capital city was conquered by the
Burmese.
The story that endures today, and is still taught to students, was overseen and partially
written by Rama I of the Chakri Dynasty, the currently ruling dynasty in Thailand, from the years 1797
to 1807. He also ordered the construction of the Grand Palace in Bangkok, which includes Wat Phra
Keaw. The walls of the temple depict scenes from the epic story. It was in this recording of the story that
the locales, dress, weapons and natural elements took on a much more specific Thai style and
description.
Summary of the Ramakien
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Just as one would sum up Homer’s The Odyssey with, “It’s about Odysseus trying to get
home after being away at war,” one would sum up the Ramakien with, “It’s about Rama fighting with a
demon who kidnapped his wife.”
There are many, many side stories and a variety of characters – from mortals to gods,
monkey warriors to demons to mermaids. I would suggest picking up a copy of it to read for yourself or
pay close attention to the murals at the wats you visit, as there may be depictions of the story in
addition to the stories of the life of the Buddha. Anytime you see a white monkey dancing around, you
are looking at a story involving Hanuman, the monkey god and commander of Rama’s army, and not a
story about the Buddha.
Ramakien in Thai Culture Today
The Ramakien has had rippling effects throughout the rest of Thai culture, such as the
aforementioned good luck charms. But it also extends to other Thai art forms: theater and visual arts.
Rama I’s son, Rama II, adapted his father’s epic to be a play, known as the Khon. My fellow
volunteers and I were fortunate enough to see a performance of the Khon in Suphan Buri last year. It is
performed by highly skilled dancers and actors, some of whom are masked for the performance, with
the dialogue being narrated by a chorus that is off stage.
Just as most Renaissance art depicts Judeo-Christian religious stories, most Thai visual art
depicts the life of the Buddha and the Ramakien epic and is displayed in the temples or by the elite.
There is now more modern art styles being explored, but the Ramakien still comes in with allegorical
references.
As such, the Ramakien is perhaps the most influential piece of Thai literature and having a
basic understanding of the story can help visitors and casual observers to gain a deeper understanding
and appreciation of Thailand and its culture.
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THAILAND
ARIYA’S FIRST VOYAGE

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SIRIWORN KAEWKAN
“In times of high winds, when a high wind blows,

it is natural for the waters to rise; when waters rise,
it is natural for the earth to quake.”
Tripitaka
The Indian Ocean is heaving, exhausted, after sending a tide of demented waves lashing at
seaside resorts and towns in Thailand, Burma, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, India, Indonesia, Malaysia, the
Maldives and, beyond, along the eastern shores of Africa, on the morning of the last Sunday five days
only before the end of the year 2004. Saturday morning, 1st of January 2005.
Ariya dreams she is floating on the Dead Sea, the sea with the saltiest waters in the world – at
least ten times the salt concentration of the Mediterranean, so that swimming is out of the question,
hence no human life will ever be lost here. The Dead Sea in Ariya‟s dream is full of marine animals of all
kinds swimming about all around her – whole shoals of sharks, whales, tunas, giant squids, sea slugs,
lobsters, oysters, crabs, turtles, seals, sea lions and tangles of nagas – even though in reality hardly any
living organism can survive in the Dead Sea, apart from bacteria and a few species of salt-inured marine
plants along its shores. Besides those sea creatures, all around Ariya tourists from all over the world are
swarming about, floating here, floating there, children and adults alike.
Some lie smoking cigars in the middle of lucent blue-green seawater; others lie reading the
morning papers in Arabic. Some are singing songs of praise of Bedouin shepherds, others writing
electronic epistles to their lovers. Some yell and thrash about and make a fuss; others lie caked in black
mud in health spas. A gag of children shouts al-Bahir al-Mayyit! Another shouts back Yam HaMelach!
Ariya knows that the first expression is Arabic for “dead sea”. As for the latter, it is Hebrew and means
“salt sea”.
From there, Ariya sinks into a reverie, squints at the sky and tries to find the borderline
between Israel and Jordan, but what is moving in the sky over the Dead Sea turns out to be a flock of
thousands of migrant birds. She knows that these birds have flown from Europe. But how odd! Instead
of veering towards Africa, the birds are all heading for Southeast Asia. Absorbed in sky, clouds and
birds, Ariya starts humming a song, the song of a widow on an island in the middle of the Andaman Sea
endeavouring to raise her daughter by herself after her fisherman husband took his boat out to sea one
evening and vanished into the horizon. And it is that song that sets Ariya thinking of her mother.
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The widow on the island in the middle of the Andaman Sea is the same person as the mother in
the song Ariya is singing. She wonders what her mother is doing at the moment and where, and how
come she finds herself in this sea, given that her fondest dream has always been to travel to the
Maldives, paradise in the middle of the Indian Ocean, not to this Dead Sea here.
As she tries to find an answer to herself, a giant shark suddenly pounces and snaps at her ribs
with full might. Pain and shock yank her out of her dream. But as soon as she opens her eyes, she finds
that the shark of her dream is the corner of a table or, if not, the corner of a sofa, or something like that,
which the force of a wave has thrust into her side. Ariya tries to push that object away from her, but as
soon as it is shunted aside other debris move in instead. For something like an hour she fights off
drifting debris that come whirling at her from all sides, leaving her aching and bruised all over.
The more she tries to swim away from them the more they harass her as if endowed with a life
of their own – divers‟ oxygen cylinders, fishermen‟s floats, bulbs, slabs of foam, boat planks, sofas,
house partitions, window frames, bamboo hut roofs, fridges, car tyres and countless other objects. In all
the twenty-two years of her life, Ariya has never felt as exhausted as this, exhausted and lonely in the
middle of surrounding danger. Besides, the morning rays that glitter on the surface of the waves blur
her vision all the more.
To regain some of her strength, she merely stays still, protecting herself just above the water,
squinting at the flock of seabirds swimming in the open space of the deep-blue morning sky. Ariya
knows how terrible these birds can be, because three days earlier some of these oh so beautiful birds
dived and pecked at the eyes of a young Japanese girl. Ariya is sorry that she was unable to help her
little friend because at the time she was fighting off a column of crabs that were storming her. As she
broods over the little Japanese girl, a clamour works its way through the surrounding wreckage and
reaches her. Sometimes it sounds like weeping, sometimes it sounds like laughter; sometimes it fades
out as if that rumour had travelled all the way from the far-flung horizon; sometimes it is so clear it
seems to buzz right inside her ear.
Mingled in that clamour is what Ariya perceives as a young woman‟s shout calling for her
mother, and the language is neither Arabic nor Hebrew but Thai. „Mummy, hold fast to my hand,
mummy.‟ At this very second, Ariya realises that actually she is not floating in the Dead Sea, but she
can‟t think what part of the world it is she is in. „Mummy, hold fast to my hand, mummy.‟ The call
sounds scared and doleful; it is weak and comes in waves. After listening attentively for a while, the
young woman is both excited and happy when she realises that it is her own voice. It is she shouting on
this late morning of Sunday the 26th of December 2004.
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When it started, the first giant wave hurled Ariya onto a red mangrove bush. Her mother had
tumbled into the water, but the young woman caught hold of her in time, so that her mother‟s body
dangled between the roaring wave and the clear latemorning air. As Ariya snatched away her mother‟s
body from the paws of the gigantic wave, a new wave swept through the top of the coconut trees just as
she felt a heavy object of some kind crash into her side. So the clasped hands of mother and child were
prised apart and each went tumbling under the might of the wave.
Later, Ariya found herself lying icy-numb and sore under the belly of the sea amid the wrecks of
so many fishing boats, houses, shops, and fellow human beings by the hundreds, by the thousands,
people from all corners of the world. Unable to stand the numbness and harassment from sea animals
any longer, she heaved her thoroughly battered body towards the surface.
That was on the night of the 28th of December 2004. The lateevening waning moon lit up the
whole expanse of sky and sea. That night should have been a beautiful night had not the surface of the
mighty sea been ridden with dark splotches of human beings and wreckage brought on by its fury all
the way from the shores of Sumatra.
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GENEROSITY
TAK WONG-RAT
The elderly man has lived in this single-floor wooden house for more than thirty years, since a
time when it had no running water and used rain and well water instead. This being the suburb‟s very
outskirts, a provincial bus connection is needed to reach it from downtown. Two years ago he was
persuaded and gently pressed to voluntarily resign from his work, which is only natural when a factory
owner insists on cutting back on expenses.
Like when you‟re a police colonel and volunteer (under orders) to resign you‟re upgraded to
police major general. He very seldom goes into town. Today: He goes to the cremation of an old
schoolmate of the same age. His friend was tall and lanky, didn‟t smoke, didn‟t drink, graduated in
science from Kasetsart University, entered civil service at the Pharmaceutical Organisation, ended as
head of its chemical and drug production department and died from acute drug poisoning. Last year a
younger friend went to sleep and never woke up. For many years now he hasn‟t attended weddings and
instead confides an envelope with money to friends, but he attends cremations. Many people don‟t have
true friends.
These days as soon as he wakes up, it‟s half happiness half sorrow. Breath he still has, which is
half-good, half-bad. Friends from the old school at the foot of Memorial Bridge: Many have died of
cancer who never smoked, but that‟s not the reason why he doesn‟t quit. He lives alone. There‟s no
kitchen in the house. He relies mostly on the food shops in his street. Some days, he makes do with just
one meal. He‟s been eating all his life – enough.
The elderly: In the past year, whenever he‟s taken the overpass to cross the road, he‟s had to
stop and stand resting at intervals; now he must use a cane. He‟s not afraid of dying. Only to have to sit
in a wheelchair… Something unexpected: One afternoon, he takes the overpass to go to the newsstand
across the road and stops to buy a bag of iced coffee from a handcart with a board saying “Coffee the ol‟-
fashioned way”. As he hands over the money the young coffee seller grins. “No – no – no charge for you,
uncle.” What‟s this about? Am I looking that decrepit? No need for an alms collection yet.
Thinking thus, he feels like crying. “PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF CHILDREN, PREGNANT

WOMEN AND THE ELDERLY.” The notice pinned over the windows in buses has no meaning at all, as if
people couldn‟t read. City dwellers only care for number one. No one gets up from his seat for a
pregnant woman. Even those seats with stickers saying “FOR MONKS AND NOVICES ONLY” are
occupied with a straight face. One day he has to go into town. Hands over the right fare. The conductor
returns him half of it.
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To qualify for half-fare you have to show your ID. He hasn‟t shown any ID. There are still bus
conductors like this one? he wonders in his heart. Almost all of the hundred red back-benched three-
wheelers of the suburbs are the same: they pick up passengers in the middle of the road, shoot off at top
speed, as if they have no time for schoolchildren and the elderly and speed away to take ailing relatives
to hospital. In the morning, all seats are taken from the start of the line; hardly any standing room
either. He gets up and stands with his cane.
A young pupil with a big satchel heavy with schoolbooks gets up at once and offers him his seat.
The evening of the cremation: The dozen or so friends who‟ve stayed throughout the real cremation
invite him to dinner in the air-conditioned eatery next to the temple. This eatery is famous for its roast
duck menu. His friends are generals, deputy director generals and businessmen. It‟s been a long time
since he drank imported liquor.
He‟s quietly glad there are still friends that don‟t ignore a friend. Fully aware he has no high
social position. “What do you do these days?” An old friend from high school days, a native of Bangkok
who‟s gone to do business as a foreign trade advisor in Phuket. They haven‟t met for more than twenty
years. He‟s flown over especially for the cremation. “I make pictures for sale.” His friend is silent for a
while. Pours him a whisky. “I‟ll buy your pictures. “Take half of the money now. Tomorrow in late
morning I‟ll go and get the pictures.”
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FRESH KILLS
KANTORN AKSORNNAM
I intend to go to Fresh Kills presently. I‟ve been eager to do so ever since I read a short article
about the New York garbage dump in National Geographic. First off, I merely want to point out that the
reason I want to go there isn‟t just because the place has become hallowed ground, but because I
believe Fresh Kills will be a prime source of raw material in my line of work and will earn me huge
amounts of money.
About five years ago, I became passionate about the creation of body ornaments – not
ornaments of the kind you can find for sale ten a penny in jewellery shops, display stalls, open markets
or sundry luxury shops, but special ornaments designed by a select group of people. Each design, each
piece is unique in the world. And most important, each must have a history, a legend, interesting
origins, or even a secret, making its price so high as to be bid through auction. These very special
ornaments are sought after by collectors that keep in touch through websites only.
It is a kind of private world for those who are mad about the narratives or exploits behind body
ornaments, be they necklaces, earrings, bracelets or piercings of every description. Age-old ornaments
are interesting of course, but they are not popular among us, because what we crave is strictly
contemporary ornaments created by a group of young designers passionate about the details involved
in the production of each piece.
Allow me to take the example of one particular recent item which had us all talking in our group
and whose possession was fiercely disputed. It was a pendant made from the ear of a baboon which had
bitten the right ear of the president of a western superpower. The monkey was instantly killed by the
president‟s bodyguards even as it still held to the presidential ear after jumping off a tree where it had
been enjoying the view in the company of a dozen other fellow creatures.
At the time the president was touring a forest reserve in a valley west of the country which, a
couple hundred years before, had been the theatre of the greatest battle in history between its native
dwellers and invaders from Europe intent on settling there, and it was on that battleground that the
famous general who led the invading army lost his life in a horrendous way and even had tribe warriors
scalp him as was the immemorial custom of victors. It was lucky that the monkey died before the
president‟s right ear was completely severed. It was later reported that eighteen stitches had been
needed to get it back on. The other monkeys panicked and scattered. Though they wanted to go and
help their comrade, they were no match to firepower.
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The news spread around the world, and was grain to the mills of television and other media for
quite a while, and it so happened that when the “monkey gets the ear of the president” incident took
place a friend from our group was strolling through the forest reserve. Let‟s call him “Steve”. As soon as
he heard the gunfire, Steve, who was looking around for “fodder” in the vicinity, dashed to the scene, as
did the other tourists nearby, but once there, all were prevented by the bodyguards from getting near as
the blood-shedding president was being hustled into a helicopter and rushed back to town to urgently
fix the almost severed ear.
This is the story Steve told us on the web board. He said that after the presidential escort had
left, he saw the body of the baboon lying in a pool of blood. It had been shot dead with Glock pistols
within a hair‟s breadth of the president‟s ear. Three 9mm bullets had pierced the unlucky creature‟s
heart, lungs and spleen. When they felt sure that the other baboons wouldn‟t act up, the two or three
remaining bodyguards also left, and the heroic baboon became legendary for untold generations of
baboons yet to come (that‟s how Steve put it).
Wasting no time, while everybody‟s attention was on the president, faster than a revolving fan
blade Steve made up his mind and went into action. Using his bush knife he slashed his way to the body,
daintily severed its right ear, slipped it in a plastic box and then sauntered off as if nothing had
happened. Afterwards, an army of reporters from all over the world scrambled for news and features
on baboons in this forest reserve. The world thus had the opportunity to admire the heroic deed of the
earchomping baboon time and time again from all sorts of angles, and the surviving baboons gained
much face in the process.
The carcass of the slain hero was taken away to go through as painstaking forensic analysis as
the latest instruments of a superpower could devise to determine whether or not it was the latest
killing machine specifically programmed for an assassination attempt. To further embellish the story
and thus push up the price of his handiwork, Steve wantonly called the baboon Bin Laden. We spread
the details among ourselves through the web board faster than we could bite our nails.
When linked to the big news in the various media, the story had the calling price of the
ornament go through the roof and such was the demand that there had to be an auction for the
possession of the eardrop of Bin Laden the baboon who had heroically chewed on the ear of a
superpower‟s chief executive. Actually, it was an ordinary eardrop, well proportioned and set in a
triangular silver frame, with the Bin Laden ear inside properly stuffed, but that it did reach the
staggering price of five million US dollars was due purely to its legend. It made me wonder how much it
would have fetched, and how much hoopla, had it held the president‟s ear instead.
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There was a great variety of opinions on our web board. For instance: “This Laden baboon must
have been waiting for a long time before he got news of the presidential visit.” (Musharraf) “We have no
way of knowing how that Laden baboon knew who the president was.” (Blair) “We are deeply sorry for
what happened and full of the deepest admiration and respect for this invaluable ornament.” (Karzai)
“That baboon had a divine intimation of who the real enemy of God is. O, may Allah forgive that act of
carefully considered bravery!” (Ahmadinejad) “It must have been seized by the spirit of native
warriors.” (Ruamruedee) And so on.
We were able to establish the authenticity of Steve‟s ornament with the news that the right ear
of the unfortunate monkey had gone missing, and heated debate followed on whether or not the whole
thing had been premeditated as a way to discredit the president‟s right ear. Our group has friends in
many countries worldwide and this is the source of ornaments with the latest and oddest backgrounds,
including many instances of distressing narratives, such as necklaces made out of bones from Hutus
decimated by the Tutsis in the 1994 Rwandan Genocide, or bracelets derived from bits of the rope used
in the hanging of Iraq president Saddam Hussein in 2006. In case you wonder how we manage to lay
our hands on such “fodder”, we each have our methods and connections – and that‟s what we call trade
secrets.
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THAT CRAZY STORY
JARAN YANG-YUEN
It is afternoon and the sky is transparent. The sun radiates so fiercely you can see heat waves
shimmering. This must be the kind of weather they call terminally hot. It can make sane people go
crazy. It sends me fleeing outdoors, unable to sustain the closeness of the low-roofed house. On a day off
– a day of immeasurable value for city dwellers – what I crave for most is lying down at ease to happily
absorb myself in reading. I‟m careful not to forget to take along things to read every time.
Today is no exception. I hold a morning paper, a weekly magazine and a pocket book as I go out.
I squat my bottom on the marble bench by the two jackfruit trees that stand side by side. They have a
rather wholesome life, their thick foliage providing pleasant shade. Besides, they are flaunting fruit the
size of little watermelons. I‟ll soon be eating their soft flesh. Before, there used to be a parachute cloth
hammock slung from their trunks, but my naughty nephew thought it was a foe from outer space that
had to be annihilated before it could harm the world, so he used his magic sword to slash it to pieces.
The hot wind of the end of the month of love blows on and off. The thick leaves of the jackfruit
trees quiver. Some which have turned dark brown come off the branches and fall to the ground, piling
up on the earth. Change is what nature is all about: whatever has run its course must leave for new
things to be born instead. A couple of bulbuls dash to a swaying jackfruit branch. As soon as they‟ve
firmed up their hold, they set about snogging openly while uttering resounding bulbul! bulbul! calls. Not
only that: I don‟t know which of the ruddy male or ruddy female lets go of a glob that lands right on the
back of my hand.
The white and grey gooey stuff smears the junction of the index and middle finger of my right
hand. Yuck! I shout and instantly give up reading the newspaper, hurriedly scoop a tissue out of my
miniskirt pocket and wipe and wipe and wipe, feeling utterly disgusted, while shivers run down my
spine because the avian flu virus is still skulking about these days biding its time, but with their
constant holding back for fear of treading on the wrong toes officials may not be able to eradicate it and
it may stay around as a disease of our society for a long time to come.
I raise my head and look at the birds with resentful eyes. Before dropping their loads, they
could at least look if there‟s anyone below! I try to rein in my irritation at being interrupted. I usually
buy this newspaper to read on my day off. It‟s a politics and business daily paper with a literary insert.
Lately I‟ve been increasingly interested in what‟s going on in writing circles. I‟m getting fed up with my
marketing job, a job that turns you crazy collecting statistics and data on the double all the time. I don‟t
like reading the mass-circulation dailies.
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They are so full of murder reports that on some days their pages drip with the red of blood. It
always boils down to love and hate and greed and hubris. It‟s all so depressing. Similarly, I‟m sick of
that political conflict that can‟t seem to find a resolution these days. Even though this daily reports the
news consistently, I skip those pages. I‟m fed up with that crazy story, as I told him last night. But a
marketing job also has its good points. At least it trains me into the habit of keeping data of all sorts, of
seeking knowledge. As soon as I find a story I‟m interested in, I file it away to read at leisure when time
allows. But in the end I never have the time to go through all the clippings I set aside.
Day after day the piles of paper in my room keep growing. At the end of the year I have to get rid
of them, albeit reluctantly. The droppings have spoiled my mood, so I decide to read something else. I
take the collection of short stories and flip through to the page where I last stopped reading. This book
was written by a well-known young writer who collected awards from a fairly early age. He was already
determined to write when he was in his teens and so he wrote and wrote until he became a fixture of
the world of letters, but alas death took him away prematurely.
Actually I bought the book months ago but only read a few pages, and that only recently. It‟s as
I said: in this life, there are always plenty of things to do, whether related to work, to family, to love
even. They eat up so much of your time there‟s very little of it left to be yourself. I intend to read at least
half of it, but after going through just a few pages something makes me lose my concentration: loud
country music pouring across the fence from the house next door.
They‟ve pulled down the old house to build a bigger one and they‟ve been at it for months – or
is it a year already? – but it‟s still not finished. They told me they had to find funds for it, so it took some
time, because although they‟d calculated expenses very carefully they were unable to keep them under
control as the cost of materials kept going up and up. After a while the music is interrupted by the news
on the hour. The announcer‟s rousing voice gives way at times to those of people in the news. The
minister in charge of security is interviewed saying that he fears the rally demanding the ouster of the
country‟s leader will grow out of control and a third hand might interfere.
He sounds positively worried. Another voice is that of the leader of teachers, one of the protest
leaders. His voice is brusque and stentorian. He proclaims that teachers countrywide will stop teaching
if that politician doesn‟t resign. That damn crazy story is haunting me again! It‟s because of that damn
crazy story that I quarrelled with my lover last night. What am I to do when I‟m totally fed up? They‟ve
been going at each other for months and there‟s no progress to be seen. Show some sympathy: I have to
toil away to find money to pay the instalments on the house – half a lifetime‟s worth of debt. I only take
one day off every week and you want me to waste it with this nonsense yet again?
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A small band of sparrows swoop down on the jackfruit trees and then undertake to make
themselves at home, so that I have to take my eyes off the book to look up at them with displeasure, but
then yet another spurt of bird shit splashes on the inside of my thigh, missing the seam of my skirt by a
whisker. I see red, yell an obscenity. “Not again! Here I am doing no harm. Why the hell do you keep
hassling me?” When I look up, it isn‟t any sparrow but a shama that shat. It‟s hopping about right above
my head. Its business done, it spreads its black and white wings to fly from the jackfruit branch to a
branch of the mango tree by the fence. I shake my head, feeling annoyed, but that‟s all I can do.
I must get up and hurry to wash my leg at the tap in front of the house before the droppings dry
up and stick to my skin. In the afternoon, it‟s not too bad, the running water sort of runs. So the tap can
be used, unlike at noon when you can‟t find any water around the house. Once I‟ve washed, I go back to
sit on the marble bench as before. Actually I‟d rather lie sprawled out in the hammock, it‟s kinder on
your back, you can read for as long as you want and when you feel drowsy just take a nap.
I keep telling myself I‟ll go and buy a new one but I never find the time. Damn that naughty
nephew of mine, I tell myself irritably. I gaze at the street in front of the house and its streams of
vehicles speeding back and forth, motorcycles and cars and pickup vans. Even though today is a holiday,
many people won‟t take a rest. It is necessary in life to work hard, but some people, even if they stop
working, don‟t seem to know what to do with a day off.
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Background
The Dutch began to colonize Indonesia in

the early 17th century; Japan occupied the islands
from 1942 to 1945. Indonesia declared its
independence shortly before Japan's surrender,
but it required four years of sometimes brutal
fighting, intermittent negotiations, and UN
mediation before the Netherlands agreed to
transfer sovereignty in 1949. A period of
sometimes unruly parliamentary democracy ended
in 1957 when President SOEKARNO declared
martial law and instituted "Guided Democracy."
After an abortive coup in 1965 by alleg ed
communist sympathizers, SOEKARNO was
gradually eased from power. From 1967 until
1998, President SUHARTO ruled Indonesia with his
"New Order" government. After street protests
toppled SUHARTO in 1998, free and fair legislative
elections took place in 1999. Indonesia is now the
world's third most populous democracy, the
world's largest archipelagic state, and the world's
largest Muslim-majority nation. Current issues
include: alleviating poverty, improving education,
preventing terrorism, consolidating de mocracy
after four decades of authoritarianism,
implementing economic and financial reforms,
stemming corruption, reforming the criminal
justice system, addressing climate change, and
controlling infectious diseases, particularly those
of global and regional importance. In 2005,
Indonesia reached a historic peace agreement with
armed separatists in Aceh, which led to democratic
elections in Aceh in December 2006. Indonesia
continues to face low intensity armed resistance in
Papua by the separatist Free Papu a Movement.
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Population distribution
Major concentration on the island of

Java, which is considered one of the
most densely populated places on
earth; of the outer islands (those
surrounding Java and Bali), Sumatra
contains some of the most
significant clusters, particularly in
the south near the Selat Sunda, and
along the northeastern coast near
Medan; the cities of Ma kasar
(Sulawesi), Banjarmasin
(Kalimantan) are also heavily
populated,
Geography
According to Indonesia's National Coordinating Agency for Survey and

Mapping, the total number of islands in the archipelago is 13,466, of which 922
are permanently inhabited (Indonesia is the world's largest country comprised
solely of islands); the country straddles the equator and occupies a strategic
location astride or along major sea lanes from the Indian Ocean to the Pacific
Ocean
Indonesia is one of the countries along the Ring of Fire, a belt of active
volcanoes and earthquake epicenters bordering the Pacific Ocean; up to 90% of
the world's earthquakes and some 75% of the world's volcanoes occur within the
Ring of Fire
Despite having the fourth la rgest population in the world, Indonesia is the
most heavily forested region on earth after the Amazon
Ethnic groups
Javanese 40.1%, Sundanese 15.5%,

Malay 3.7%, Batak 3.6%,
Madurese 3%,Betawi 2.9%,
Minangkabau 2.7%,
Buginese 2.7%, Bantenese 2%,
Banjarese 1.7%, Balinese 1.7%,
Acehnese 1.4%, Dayak 1.4%, Sasak
1.3%, Chinese 1.2%, other 15% (2010
est.)
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Languages
Bahasa Indonesia (official, modified form of

Malay), English, Dutch, local dialects (of
which the most widely spoken is
Javanese) more than 700 languages are used
in Indonesia
Religions
Muslim 87.2%, Protestant 7%, Roman

Catholic 2.9%, Hindu 1.7%, other 0.9%
(includes Buddhist and Confucian),
unspecified 0.4% (2010 est.)
Age structure
0-14 years: 24.63% (male 32,967,727 /female

31,757,882)
21,852,006)
54,433,239)
12,494,036)
65 years and over: 7.26% (male 8,326,858
/female 10,749,895) (2018 est.)
Cuisine
Indonesian cuisine is one of the most

diverse, vibrant, and colourful in the world, full
of intense flavour. Many regional cuisines exist,
often based upon indigenous culture and foreign
influences such as Chinese, European, Middle
Eastern, and Indian precedents.[317] Rice is the
leading staple food and is served with side
dishes of meat and vegetables. Spices (notably
chilli), coconut milk, fish and chicken are
fundamental ingredients.
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Fact 1
Jakarta’s Gelora Bung Karno
Stadium is one of the largest
stadium in the world. When it
was completed in 1962 to
host the Asian Games it’s
original capacity was
120,800 people, which would
have made it the second
largest today.
Fact 2
The Komodo dragon, found in Indonesia, is the largest lizard
in the world, growing up to 3 meters (9.8 feet) in length.
Fact 3
The world’s largest flower, Rafflesia
Arnoldi, weighs up to 7 kg (15 pounds) and
only grows on the island of Sumatra,
Indonesia. Its petals grow to 0.5 meters (1.6
feet) long and 2.5 cm (1 inch) thick.

Fact 4
According to the 2004 Global Corruption Report,
former Indonesian President Suharto was the
most corrupt leader of all time, embezzling
between 15 billion and 35 billion USD.
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Fact 5 Fact 6
Indonesia has the largest ‘young’ Indonesia has the second longest coastline in
population in the world with 165 million the world (over 54,000km), after Canada
people under the age of 30, whereas only (CIA World Factbook).
8% of the population is aged over 60 years
(National Bureau of Statistics, August

Fact 7
2001).
Indonesia has the largest Muslim population
in the world.
Fact 8
One of the longest snakes ever
found was discovered in
Sulawesi, Indonesia in 1912.
According to the Guinness
World Records, the snake had a
length of 10 meters (or about
32 ft 9.5 in).
Fact 9
Borobudur temple in Central Java

is the largest Buddhist temple in
the world, decorated with 2,672
relief panels and 504 Buddha
statues.
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INDONESIAN LITERATURE
Indonesia has created many celebrated authors. There has also been a long tradition,
particularly among ethnically Malay populations, of impromptu, interactive, verbal composition of
poetry referred to as the ‘pantun’. There is a long Javanese tradition of the poet as a "voice on the wind,"
a critic of authority. During the Suharto era, poets and playwrights had works banned, among them W.
S. Rendra whose plays were not allowed in Jakarta.Pramoedya Ananta Toer, a well-known author won
the Magsaysay Award and was considered for the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Indonesia's literary legacy includes centuries-old palm, bamboo, and other fiber manuscripts from
several literate peoples, such as the Malay, Javanese, Balinese, Buginese, Rejang, and Batak. The
fourteenth century Nagarakrtagama is a lengthy poem praising King Hayam Wuruk and describing the
life and social structure of his kingdom, Majapahit. The I La Galigo of the Bugis, which traces the
adventures of their culture hero, Sawerigading, is one of the world's longest epic poems.
Although the culture of India, largely

embodied in insular Southeast Asia with the Sanskrit
language and the Hindu and Buddhist religions, was
eagerly grasped by the elite of the existing society,
typically Indian concepts, such as caste and the
inferior status of women, appear to have made little
or no headway against existing Indonesian
traditions. Nowhere was Indian civilization accepted
without change; rather, the more elaborate Indian
religious forms and linguistic terminology were used
to refine and clothe indigenous concepts.
In Java even these external forms of Indian origin were transformed into distinctively
Indonesian shapes. The tradition of plays using Javanese shadow puppets (wayang), the origins of
which may date to the neolithic age, was brought to a new level of sophistication in portraying
complex Hindu dramas (lakon) during the period of Indianization. Even later Islam which forsakes
pictorial representations of human brings, brought new developments to the wayang tradition
through numerous refinements in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries.
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The Javanese has a literary history dating back to the 8th century. Many of their folk stories are
based on Hindu stories from India. During the Medang or Mataram Kingdom—a Javanese Hindu–
Buddhist kingdom that flourished between the 8th and 10th centuries in Central Java, and later in East
Java—there was blossoming of art, culture and literature, mainly through the translation of Hindu-
Buddhist sacred texts and the transmission and adaptation of Hindu-Buddhist ideas. The bas-relief
narration of the Hindu epic Ramayana was carved on the wall of Prambanan Temple. During this
period, the Kakawin Ramayana, an old Javanese rendering was written. This Kakawin Ramayana, also
called the Yogesvara Ramayana, is attributed to the scribe Yogesvara circa the 9th century CE, who was
employed in the court of the Medang in Central Java. It has 2774 stanzas in the manipravala style, a
mixture of Sanskrit and archaic Javanese prose. The most influential version of the Ramayana is the
Ravanavadham of Bhatti, popularly known as Bhattikavya. The Javanese Ramayana differs markedly
from the original Hindu.
“When Islam started to spread across the islands of Indonesia in the 12th century, it was also
bringing new kinds of cultural influences from the Islamic world, from Arab culture, Persia and Islamic
West India. They included literature, types of instruments, forms of music, styles of recitation of holy
texts, and also some forms of dance. In many cases these new elements were quickly localised and they
intermingled with earlier animistic and Hindu-Buddhist elements. A good example is wayang golek rod
puppet theatre, which has its roots firmly in the older wayang kulit shadow theatre that mainly deals
with Hindu mythology. Wayang golek, however, takes its main plot material from the Islamic Menak
stories. A similar kind of fusion of cultural layers can be recognised in numerous Indonesian traditions.
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INDONESIAN POEMS
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Aku Ingin
Sapardi Djoko Damono
Aku ingin mencintaimu dengan sederhana
Dengan kata yang tak sempat diucapkan kayu
Kepada api yang menjadikannya abu.
Aku ingin mencintaimu dengan sederhana
Dengan isyarat yang tak sempat disampaikan awan
Kepada hujan yang menjadikannya tiada
Translate:
I want to love you modestly
Through unspoken words the woods to the fire
that make it ashes
I want to love you modestly
Through unspoken sign the clouds to the rain
that makes it invisible.
Sapardi Djoko Damono
(born 20 March 1940

in Surakarta, Central Java) is
an Indonesian poet known for lyrical
poems, and who is widely regarded as
the pioneer of lyrical poetry in
Indonesia.
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Puisi
Korrie Layun Rampan
Jalan ini berdebu, kekasih

Terbentang padang rasa
Enam belas matahari memanah dari enam belas ufuk
Siang pun garang sepanjang kulminasi
Bahak malam mengikut pelang langkah tertatih
Ketipak bulan putih di taman kekasih
Pengantinku,
Antara kerikil dan pasir merah
Tersembunyi jejak-jejak yang singgah.
Translate:
This road is dusty, my darling

Spread in the field of feeling
Sixteen suns shooting from sixteen horizons
The day is fierce along culmination
The laugh of the night follows the lumbered step
Pitter-patter of white moon
In the love park
My bride,
Between gravel and red sand
Hidden the halting steps
Korrie Layun Rampan
(17 August 1953 – 19 November 2015) was an

Indonesian novelist, short story writer, poet,
literary critic, journalist, and politician.
Born in Samarinda, East Kalimantan, he became

interested in literature while in elementary
school, writing numerous short stories and
poems.
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Sajak Sikat Gigi
Yudistira ANM Massardi
Seseorang lupa menggosok gigi sebelum tidur
Di dalam tidur ia bermimpi
Ada sikat gigi menggosok-gosok mulutnya supaya terbuka
Ketika ia bangun pagi hari
Sikat giginya tinggal sepotong
Sepotong yang hilang itu agaknya
Tersesat didalam mimipinya dan tak bisa kembali
Translate:
Someone forgot to brush his teeth before sleep
In his sleep, he is dreaming
There is a tooth brush brushing his mouth to open
When he woke up in the morning
His tooth brush is only half left
The other half is likely
To get lost in his dream and cannot comeback
Yudhistira Ardi Noegraha Moelyana

Massardi
Was born in Subang, West Java, 1954.

Yudhistira has made himself one of the
most controversial of Indonesia's younger
authors. He writes for various newspaper
and women's magazines, largely about
romantic love among adolescents.
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INDONESIAN SHORT STORIES
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INDONESIAN FOLK TALES AND STORIES
A famous folk story in Sumatra goes: The Javanese came to Sumatra and tried to counquer them
so they could take control of their rich fertile farming land. The West Sumatrans proposed that they
settle the land dispute with a bull fight. The Javan King, knowing he had many fine bulls accepted the
proposal. The Javans went back to select their finest bull and took it to West Sumatra to fight with their
prize bull. Realizing their people could never find a bull as large as the Javanese, one clever West
Sumatran fielded a baby bull with V-shaped knives attached to its horns. The Javan bull was put into the
bull ring and was very surprised to see a small baby calf come into the ring to fight. When the fight
started the baby bull perceived its opponent as its mother and rushed to suckle the Javanese bull, in the
process ripping out the bull’s belly. The Javanese quickly retreated back to Java allowing the West
Sumatrans to feast on the dead Javanese bull and to keep their land.
Explaining why tigers and cats bury their pooh, another Sumatran story goes: Thousands of years
ago, before man had entered the jungles of Sumatra and the animals rule the land the Sumatran Tiger
and cat (before it was domesticated) were proud cousins, always helping each other out in the big bad
jungle. One day a very hungry Sumatran Tiger had been hunting for food for days. It was loosing energy
and not sure if it could catch anything substantial to eat. As he was loosing all hope he look up into a
banana tree and saw one of his cousins high in the tree, where he couldn't reach, feasting on bananas.
Although the Sumatran Tiger didn't eat bananas he thought that if he had a few it many give him enough
energy to catch a tasty deer. He called to his cousin for him to throw down some bananas to give him
more energy so he could hunt something to eat.
The cat became scared and thought that if the Tiger only had a bit of energy he may become his
second course before he went hunting for some deer. The cat yelled to the Tiger that he would help him
to gain some energy but he wanted the Tiger to open his mouth and close his eyes, so the cat could feed
him but have some time to flee before becoming lunch. The Tiger agreed, closing his eyes and opening
his eyes. The mischievous cat decided to play a trick on the Tiger, not feeding him bananas to
strengthen him but to weaken him to ensure his own escape.
The cat turned around and pooped off the tree into the Tigers hungry mouth. As the Tiger started
to chew he realised he was not chewing on sweet bananas. He quickly spat his mouth load out and
yelled up into the trees as the cat bolted through the canopy, ' CAT! You may have fooled me, but now
that I have tasted your poo, and know what you poo smells like, I can track you anywhere in the jungle
and will catch you!'. Since that day the cat, and his ancestors, the domestic cat bury their poo!
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Malin Kundang
Once upon a time, on the north coast
of Sumatra lived a poor woman and his son.
The boy was called Malin Kundang. They
didn’t earn much as fishing was their only
source of income. Malin Kundang grew up as
a skillful young boy. He always helps his
mother to earn some money. However, as
they were only fisherman’s helper, they still
lived in poverty. “Mother, what if I sail
overseas?” asked Malin Kundang one day to
his mother.
Her mother didn’t agree but Malin Kundang had made up his mind. “Mother, if I stay
here, I’ll always be a poor man. I want to be a successful person,” urged Malin kundang. His
mother wiped her tears, “If you really want to go, I can’t stop you. I could only pray to God
for you to gain success in life,” said his mother wisely. “But, promise me, you’ll come home.”
In the next morning, Malin Kundang was ready to go. Three days ago, he met one of
the successful ship’s crew. Malin was offered to join him. “Take a good care of yourself, son,”
said Malin Kundang’s mother as she gave him some food supplies. “Yes, Mother,” Malin
Kundang said. “You too have to take a good care of yourself. I’ll keep in touch with you,” he
continued before kissing his mother’s hand. Before Malin stepped onto the ship, Malin’s
mother hugged him tight as if she didn’t want to let him go. It had been three months since
Malin Kundang left his mother. As his mother had predicted before, he hadn’t contacted her
yet. Every morning, she stood on the pier. She wished to see the ship that brought Malin
kundang home. Every day and night, she prayed to the God for her son’s safety. There was so
much prayer that had been said due to her deep love for Malin Kundang. Even though it’s
been a year she had not heard any news from Malin Kundang, she kept waiting and praying
for him.
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After several years waiting without any news, Malin Kundang’s mother was suddenly surprised by
the arrival of a big ship in the pier where she usually stood to wait for her son. When the ship finally
pulled over, Malin Kundang’s mother saw a man who looked wealthy stepping down a ladder along with
a beautiful woman. She could not be wrong. Her blurry eyes still easily recognized him. The man was
Malin Kundang, her son. Malin Kundang’s mother quickly went to see her beloved son. “Malin, you’re
back, son!” said Malin Kundang’s mother and without hesitation, she came running to hug Malin
Kundang,“I miss you so much.” But, Malin Kundang didn’t show any respond. He was ashamed to admit
his own mother in front of his beautiful wife.“You’re not my Mother. I don’t know you. My mother would
never wear such ragged and ugly clothes,” said Malin Kundang as he release his mother embrace.
Malin Kundang’s mother take a step back, “Malin…You don’t recognize me? I’m your mother!” she
said sadly. Malin Kundang’s face was as cold as ice. “Guard, take this old women out of here,” Malin
Kundang ordered his bodyguard. “Give her some money so she won’t disturb me again!” Malin
Kundang’s mother cried as she was dragged by the bodyguard,”Malin… my son. Why do you treat your
own mother like this?” Malin Kundang ignored his mother and ordered the ship crews to set sail. Malin
Kundang’s mother sat alone in the pier. Her heart was so hurt, she cried and cried. “Dear God, if he isn’t
my son, please let him have a save journey. But if he is, I cursed him to become a stone,” she prayed to
the God. In the quiet sea, suddenly the wind blew so hard and a thunderstorm came. Malin Kundang’s
huge ship was wrecked. He was thrown by the wave out of his ship, and fell on a small island. Suddenly,
his whole body turned into stone. He was punished for not admitting his own mother.”
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Sangkuriang
Long time ago in West Java, lived a
beautiful girl named Dayang Sumbi. She
was also smart and clever. Her beauty and
intelligence made a prince from the
heavenly kingdom of Kahyangan desire her
as his wife. The prince asked permission
from his father to marry Dayang Sumbi.
People from Kahyangan could never live
side by side with humans, but his father
approved on one condition, when they had
a child, the prince would transform into a
dog.
The prince accepted the condition. They get married and lived happily in the woods until
Dayang Sumbi gave birth to a baby boy. The prince then changed into a dog named Tumang.
Their son is named Sangkuriang. He was very smart and handsome like his father. Everyday, he
hunted animals and looked for fruits to eat. One day, when he was hunting, Sangkuriang accidentally
killed Tumang. His arrow missed the deer he was targeting and hit Tumang instead. He went home and
tells her mother about the dog.“What?” Dayang Sumbi was appalled. Driven by sadness and anger, she
grabbed a weaving tool and hit Sangkuriang’s head with it. Dayang Sumbi was so sad; she didn’t pay any
attention to Sangkuriang and started to cry. Sangkuriang feel sad and also confused. How can his
mother love a dog more than him?
Sangkuriang then decided to go away from their home and went on a journey. In the morning,
Dayang Sumbi finally stopped crying. She started to feel better, so she went to find Sangkuriang. But her
son was no where to be found. She looked everywhere but still couldn’t find him. Finally, she went
home with nothing. She was exhausted. She fell asleep, and in her dream, she meets her
husband.“Dayang Sumbi, don’t be sad. Go look for my body in the woods and get the heart. Soak it with
water, and use the water to bathe, and you will look young forever,” said the prince in her dream. After
bathing with the water used to soak the dog’s heart, Dayang Sumbi looked more beautiful and even
younger.
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And time passed by. Sangkuriang on his journey stopped at a village and met and fell in love
with a beautiful girl.He didn’t realize that the village was his homeland and the beautiful girl was his
own mother, Dayang Sumbi. Their love grew naturally and he asked the girl to marry him. One day,
Sangkuriang was going on a hunt. He asked Dayang Sumbi to fix the turban on his head. Dayang Sumbi
was startled when she saw a scar on his head at the same place where she, years ago, hit Sangkuriang
on the head. After the young man left, Dayang Sumbi prayed for guidance. After praying, she became
convinced that the young man was indeed her missing son. She realized that she had to do something to
prevent Sangkuriang from marrying her. But she did not wish to disappoint him by cancelling the
wedding. So, although she agreed to marry Sangkuriang, she would do so only on the condition that he
provides her with a lake and built a beautiful boat, all in one night. Sangkuriang accepted this condition
without a doubt. He had spent his youth studying magical arts. After the sun went down, Sangkuriang
went to the hill. Then he called a group of genie to build a dam around Citarum River. Then, he
commands the genies to cut down trees and build a boat. A few moments before dawn, Sangkuriang and
his genie servants almost finished the boat.
Dayang Sumbi, who had been spying on him, realised that Sangkuriang would fulfill the
condition she had set. Dayang Sumbi immediately woke all the women in the village and asked them to
wave a long red scarf. All the women in the village were waving red scarf, making it look as if dawn was
breaking. Deceived by false dawn, the cock crowed and farmers rose for the new day. Sangkuriang’s
genie servants immediately dropped their work and ran for cover from the sun, which they feared.
Sangkuriang grew furious. With all his anger, he kicked the unfinished boat. The boat flew and landed
on a valley. The boat then became a mountain, called Mount Tangkuban Perahu (Tangkuban means
upturned or upside down, and Perahu means boat). With his power, he destroyed the dam. The water
drained from the lake becoming a wide plain and nowadays became a city called Bandung (from the
word Bendung, which means Dam).
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Cindelaras
Raden Putra was the king of
Jenggala kingdom. He had a beautiful
queen and concubine. Unlike the queen,
the concubine had bad personalities.
She was envious and jealous with the
queen, so she planned to make the
queen leave the palace. The concubine
then asked the royal healer to help her
in her plan.
One day, the concubine pretended to be ill. Raden Putra called the royal healer to give the
concubine treatments.“What is her disease?” Raden Putra asked the royal healer. “I’m very sorry, My
Majesty. She is sick because the queen put poison in her meal,” the royal healer lied. Raden Putra was
shock and angry to hear the explanation. He called the queen and asked her if the story was true. Of
course the queen denied, but Raden Putra won’t listen. “Please Your Majesty, have mercy. I really didn’t
do anything,” cried the queen in her tears.
Raden Putra’s anger ended in a decision. The queen should be banished to the woods and
terminated. He did not know that the queen was already pregnant. Raden Putra commanded one of his
general to do the punishment. The queen was banished to the woods, but the wise general didn’t have
the heart to kill her. He built a simple house in the woods for her. On his way back to the palace, he
smeared his sword with rabbit blood, so Raden Putra would believe that he had killed the queen. After
the general left, the queen lived by herself in the woods. Several months later, she gave birth to a
healthy baby boy. The baby was named Cindelaras. He grew up as a nice, healthy, and handsome boy.
One day, while Cindelaras helped her mother to collect some fire woods, an eagle dropped an egg.
Cindelaras brought the egg to be brooded by a chicken behind their house. The egg hatched into a chick
and then it slowly became a strong rooster. The rooster is no ordinary rooster.
The rooster could sing. Every morning, the rooster woke Cindelaras up with its beautiful song,
“My master is Cindelaras. His house is in the woods. He’s the son of Raden Putra.” The rooster often
sang that song. Cindelaras always woke up early in the morning and listen happily to his rooster’s song.
He didn’t realize the meaning of the song until one day, he started to think.“Who is Raden Putra?” he
asked his mother. The queen then told him the whole story. She also told him why they were banned
from the kingdom and lived in the woods. Cindelaras was very surprised. He decided to go to the palace
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to meet the king, his father. Cindelaras asked her mother’s permission to go to the kingdom and to tell
the king what really happened. He also brought his rooster that grew bigger and stronger each day. On
his way, Cindelaras stopped at a village. There, he met some people who were involved in cockfighting.
They challenge him to see how strong his rooster was.“If your rooster wins, you’ll get a reward,” said
the man who challenged him. Cindelaras accepted the challenge. In a few minutes, his rooster defeated
the opponent’s rooster. He was challenged again by other man, and one more time, his rooster won. He
won again and again.
The news about Cindelaras’ rooster quickly spread to the whole Jenggala kingdom and made
Raden Putra curious. So, he invited Cindelaras to the palace.“What is your name, boy?” Raden Putra
asked as Cindelaras arrived in the palace.“My name is Cindelaras, Your Majesty,” Cindelaras answered.
He felt both thrilled and happy to see Raden Putra. Raden Putra challenged Cindelaras with one
condition. If Raden Putra’s rooster won, Cindelaras’ head would be cut off. But if Cindelaras’ rooster
won, Raden Putra would share half of his wealth. Cindelaras accepted the condition. The competition
was held in the front yard of the palace. The two roosters fought bravely. But in just a few minutes,
Cindelaras’ rooster won the fight! Raden Putra shook his head and stared at Cindelaras from his
seat,“That rooster is no ordinary rooster, and the boy is not an ordinary boy either. Who is he exactly?”
he thought. Raden Putra was about to asked when suddenly Cindelaras’ rooster sang the song, “My
master is Cindelaras. His house is in the woods. He’s the son of Raden Putra.” Raden Putra was
surprised. “Is it true?” he asked. “Yes, My Majesty. My name is Cindelaras and my mother was the
queen,” said Cindelaras. Raden putra called the general who had banished the queen. The general then
confessed that he never killed the queen. Later, the royal healer also admitted his mistake. Raden Putra
was so shocked. He immediately went to the woods to pick up the queen. Ever since, Cindelaras and his
parents lived happily together. As for the concubine, she was sent to the jail as punishment.
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Kesuma and the Volcano

Once upon a time there was a husband and a
wife named Joko Seger and Roro Anteng. They had
been married for years but they did not have any
children yet. They dearly wanted to have children
and prayed to gods everyday. One day Joko Seger
had a vision: his wife would be pregnant if he
meditated in a cave. However, a lion lived in the
cave. Joko Seger fought with the lion. He won!
Later, when Joko Seger was meditating he heard a voice:“Joko Seger, all the Gods agreed to give
you children, lots of children.” “Really? Thank you very much,” said Joko Seger happily. “But there is one
condition you have to do.” “Say it. I will do anything as long as you give me lots of children,” said Joko
Seger. “You will have 25 children. But you have to sacrifice one of them when they are adult.” “I agree,”
said Joko Seger without any doubts. He was so happy that Gods would give them 25 children. He
thought sacrificing one of them would not to be a problem. He would still have 24 children.
At home, Joko Seger told his wife about his conversation with the god. And Roro Anteng could
not say anything. After all, her husband had promised to Gods. She just hoped that they would never
have to sacrifice one child. Later, Roro Anteng was pregnant. They had a baby! Joko Seger and Roro
Anteng were very happy. The first baby was followed by others babies. Sometimes, the babies were
born twins and other times the babies were born triplets. And the couple finally had 25 children! They
were extremely happy.
And when the children were grown up, Joko Seger had a dream. He talked to the God. “Joko
Seger, remember your promise. I want you to bring one of your children to the crater of Bromo
Mountain. Sacrifice your child there. If you don”t keep you promise, the mountain will erupt and
destroy everything.” Joko Seger wake up from his sleep. He was restless. He then talked to all his
children about his promise. “No, father. I don’t want to die,” said the oldest. “I don’t either, Father,” said
another child. All the children refused to be sacrificed. Joko Seger did not have the heart to force them.
He loved all his children. Suddenly, the youngest child talked. His name was Kesuma. “Please let me do
it, Father. I love our family and the people of Tengger. But please, commemorate my sacrifice. Every
year, please hold a ceremony and provide some offerings to the creator of Bromo Mountain,” said
Kesuma.
52 | P a g e
ASEAN Literature
Kesuma was a very good son. He was obedient to his parents and very kind to the other people.
All the villagers loved him. He was kind and always helped other people. Kesuma went to the crater. He
jumped and he was swallowed by fire. Everybody was sad. And they all were very thankful to Kesuma.
Because of him, their place was safe from the eruption of Bromo Mountain. Even today, once a year the
people of Tengger always hold a ceremony to commemorate Kesuma. They bring offerings to the crater
of Bromo Mountain.
53 | P a g e

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ASEAN Literature

Location and Geography

Seven Austronesian languages are spoken, all of which

The nineteen Tibeto-Burman-speaking groups include

Thai is the national language and the medium for

Food in Daily Life

1. Thailand is the only

6. One-tenth of the entire population of

7. Thailand loves its King, and

King Rama II composed two episodes of the Ramakian

Both King Rama V and Rama VI were also distinguished

Another leading literary figure is former Prime Minister

Another popular Thai contemporary poet, Naowarat

The transformation of the world by science and

POETRY THAT CATCHES THE SPIRIT OF

popular Thai poems to know about.

Phra Aphai Mani

Phra Aphai Mani is one of Thailand’s most well-known epic

poems. It was written over a course of 20 years in the early 1800s

which is set in a fantastical realm where supernatural beings and

mythical creatures roam. The main characters are a young merman

SYPNOSIS fictitious poem has an underlying anti-colonialism message.

Yuan Phai is another epic poem. It is one of few

pieces of literature that survives from the

early Ayutthaya period. The poem tells the story of

historic tensions between the Ayutthaya and Lanna

Kingdoms and a battle in the 1470s between the two

kingdoms in Si Satchanalai, near Sukhothai. It celebrates

the victory of King Boromma Trailokanat, the ruler of

Ayutthaya at that time, over the King Tilokkarat and the

Yuan people of the Lanna Kingdom. The poem’s name

means ‘Defeat of the Yuan’. Despite the poem indicating

glowing victory, tensions in the area remained for almost

another one hundred years.

Summary of key events

The same events are recapped in slightly greater detail (stanzas

The narrative breaks off in the middle of describing the march

Khun Chang Khun Phaen

History of the Ramakien

Summary of the Ramakien

Ramakien in Thai Culture Today

ARIYA’S FIRST VOYAGE

“In times of high winds, when a high wind blows,

Thinking thus, he feels like crying. “PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF CHILDREN, PREGNANT

The Dutch began to colonize Indonesia in

Major concentration on the island of

According to Indonesia's National Coordinating Agency for Survey and

Javanese 40.1%, Sundanese 15.5%,

Bahasa Indonesia (official, modified form of

Muslim 87.2%, Protestant 7%, Roman

0-14 years: 24.63% (male 32,967,727 /female

Indonesian cuisine is one of the most

The world’s largest flower, Rafflesia

Arnoldi, weighs up to 7 kg (15 pounds) and

only grows on the island of Sumatra,

Indonesia. Its petals grow to 0.5 meters (1.6

feet) long and 2.5 cm (1 inch) thick.