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When Susuk
Meets Scalpel
A few weeks ago, I
was introduced to an attractive young lady at a reception. She looked
like a young student, but she had been a qualified plastic surgeon for
seven years. Clearly this was not a case of physician heal thyself!
I
asked her what made choose plastic surgery as her specialization.
“It’s a science and an art,” she explained. “There are two branches,
reconstructive and aesthetic, and both can change people’s lives in
quite dramatic ways. If a person has been disfigured in an accident,
for example, plastic surgery can help them get their life back.”
And
the aesthetic side?
“Well,” she said, “plastic surgery is just like going to the salon,
but with more permanent effects.”
And
thanks to celebrities like Titi DJ - who is very open about the tummy
tuck and other beautifying operations she has had - people are now
much more accepting of aesthetic plastic surgery, once seen as an
almost immoral indulgence.
It
made me think, how does plastic surgery fit in with Indonesian notions
of beauty? I didn’t have to think long -- it fits perfectly! After
all, this is the land of jamu (traditional herbal medicine),
lulur (Javanese body scrub) and susuk (charm needles made
from silver, gold or diamond, inserted subcutaneously, usually in the
face or head, to give the wearer irresistible charm).
Over
centuries, beautification in
Indonesia
has developed to a fine art and a mystic science. The standard of
beauty for a Javanese princess for example, was an alluring body,
lustrous long black hair, smooth pale skin “like marble”, eyes like
“the morning star”, eyebrows shaped like “ants in a row”, lips “like
ripe-red pomegranate”, calves shaped like a grain of rice, teeth “like
white pearls”, a long, swanlike slender neck, and so on.
In
fact, so important was beauty in our traditional cultures that you
could even say that for women being beautiful was equated with being
virtuous (if only it were that simple!). From this perspective,
plastic surgery is merely a more technological alternative to ancient
traditions, albeit an invasive, expensive and sometimes risky one.
I
myself was brought up to place importance on appearance (and on
appearances!) by my mother. This started from an early age when I saw
she always made sure she looked nice, and took particular care to look
fresh and beautiful when my father was around. She didn’t have a
sophisticated beauty regimen (and of course no plastic surgery!), just
Nivea cream, face powder and lipstick, but it helped that she was a
classic Sundanese beauty!
As
much as I am a feminist, I don’t really subscribe to Naomi Wolf’s
“beauty myth”, the idea that the celebration of beauty is part of a
male-driven misogynist conspiracy, fueled by the cosmetic industry.
For me, looking good is related to good health and self-respect: the
body as the temple of the soul kind-of-thing.
Having said that, in
Indonesia
as elsewhere, the health and beauty industry is booming, sometimes to
unhealthy proportions. With celebrities as role models, all banking on
their looks, the drive to be beautiful can reach neurotic proportions.
The inevitable wrinkles and sagging skin have become the bane of a
woman’s existence - yes, even here in Indonesia where women tend to
look younger than they really are. Character lines? Forget it,
darling!
Yes,
plastic surgery fits in fine with Indonesian notions of beauty, but
often it is driven by fear – of looking old, of not being accepted or
loved. In the end, though, neither the susuk nor the scalpel
can replace self-esteem. + Julia Suryakusuma
The writer is the author of Sex, Power and Nation. She
can be reached on jsuryakusuma@mac.com
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