SURABAYA, Indonesia – When Ksatria Lion and Dragon Dance Team was founded, resources were scarce, but passion was abundant even though they started with absolutely nothing.
“Our first lion dance costumes were made from chicken wire and ping-pong balls. We used an Aqua gallon for a drum and pot lids for cymbals,” Citra Satria Ongkowijoyo, one of the founding members, recalled with laughter.
This year marks the 20th anniversary of Ksatria, a team whose journey from humble beginnings to a cultural powerhouse exemplifies resilience and passion. In the olden days, Chinese martial arts like kung fu and wushu were more commonly practiced as sports in Indonesia. “I played kung fu since junior high school,” he said.
Ksatria is neither the largest nor the oldest among barongsai groups (lion and dance teams) in Surabaya. What distinguishes them from other, more established groups, is that they were not funded by a specific religious organization or temple.
Ksatria was founded in 2003 by a group of eight friends who were keen to revive their passion for lion dance.
“We are not funded by a certain religious organization or temple, we don’t have any sponsors. We rely solely on the money we make from shows to cover the team’s needs,” he explained.
Having known each other for 25 years, Ongkowijoyo and other teammates were part of an older dragon dance group that disbanded due to mismanagement. But two months without practicing left them feeling like there was a void. They indeed missed it; the art and the camaraderie. Later they thought, “Why not start something of our own?”
Early members of Ksatria practiced at a friend’s house and later managed to find a small space in Gading Pantai neighborhood park on the northern coast of Surabaya, Indonesia’s second largest city.
Undeterred, the team borrowed six million Rupiah (around P22,238) to purchase proper equipment, promising to pay it back in six months. “We worked hard, performing with bigger groups, and we paid it back in just three weeks,” Ongkowijoyo said, pride evident in his voice.
From ritual to sports and arts
For decades, the vibrant tradition of lion and dragon dance in Indonesia was suppressed under the authoritarian regime of President Suharto.
As part of a broader crackdown on Chinese cultural expression, these festive performances were deemed a threat to national unity and were effectively banned. This suppression stemmed from the anti-communist sentiment that swept the nation in the 1960s, leading to the marginalization of the Chinese Indonesian community.
Many were forced to disband, while others resorted to clandestine training and performances within the confines of Chinese temples. The oppressive atmosphere stifled the cultural vibrancy of these traditional arts.
The turning point came in 1998 with the fall of Suharto’s regime. President Abdurrahman Wahid recognized the cultural significance of lion and dragon dance and lifted the ban in 2000. This decision sparked a renaissance, as lion dance clubs emerged across the country, eager to showcase their skills.
The relaxation of restrictions on Chinese Indonesian cultural expression, including the lion and dragon dance, also cleared the way for the rise of Ksatria. It has transformed significantly from primarily being for religious festivals to being for sports and other non-cultural occasions, too.
“Now, it’s a sport under KONI (the Indonesian National Sports Committee), complete with rules, scoring systems, and formal training materials. Back then, we learned everything on our own, without any foundation. Today’s generation has it so much better,” Ongkowijaya told.
However, Ksatria has balanced tradition with modern expectations, creating an inclusive environment while embracing a new, structured approach. The thiam or eye-dotting ceremony is still practiced in Ksatria as part of the lion and dragon dance tradition. Thiam is a custom used in Chinese culture to get blessings.
“All our barong (dragon) and liong (lion) must be ‘thiamed’ in the temple and prayed for. And not holding them by their horns is another cultural regulation that must be followed,” he said.
As a self-sustaining organization, they ensure that everyone’s viewpoint is acknowledged and cherished. “The management we have today has definitely evolved from what it used to be in the past. Especially when it comes to looking after our younger members,” Ongkowijoyo said.
To preserve the independence and sanctity of the dance tradition, Ongkowijoyo and his group decline requests for performances from political groups or politicians. “We don’t select that, even if we are aware that they are paid. He said emphatically, “We don’t want to get involved in politics.”
Women and other ethnicities in lion dance
Ksatria has also made significant strides in inclusivity, particularly for women. “Lion dance used to be a male-dominated field,” Ongkowijoyo said. Now, Ksatria has five female members who not only participate, but also bring a unique energy that proves that this art form isn’t limited by gender.
Raphaela, Jenny, Michelle, Ayudewi, and Lia, are drawn to the team’s strong sense of camaraderie, lack of senior hierarchy, and dedication to the art form.They view their participation as an opportunity for personal growth, physical fitness, and a chance to break down gender stereotypes.
Lia Megawati, 29, has become a Ksatria member since 2014, drawn to the group’s welcoming atmosphere and focus on skill rather than seniority. “I joined a more traditional barongsai group with a stricter hierarchy for about two years. After that, I joined Ksatria until now.”
As a common Gen Z, Raphaela Putri Hartanto’s journey with the Ksatria lion and dragon dance team began with a simple Instagram post. “I was immediately captivated by this group’s meticulous attention to detail, especially in terms of cleanliness and equipment maintenance,” the 23-year-old recalled. It was unlike anything she’d seen before, so she knew she had to be a part of it.
What truly sets Ksatria apart, according to Raphaella, is its strong sense of community. There is no hierarchy or seniority that creates a distance between the newer and more experienced members. She emphasized the importance of family, friendship, and balance in Ksatria, especially because she came from a more traditional team where seniority played a significant role. “In Ksatria, if you have the skill, you get to perform, regardless of your age. I do appreciate this value,” she said.
Members also come from various ethnic and religious backgrounds. Starting with all members with Chinese roots, now 50-60% are non-Chinese players. “Respect is our top rule, and anyone who shares our passion is welcome,” Ongkowijoyo emphasized.
The team’s flexibility accommodates all members, including those with dietary or religious needs. Members are free to fulfill their religious commitments, even on the day of the performance. Ksatria guarantees that Muslim members pray by fostering open communication.
“Muslims are allowed to pray, as long as they tell me from the start so that I can organize the players during the performance,” he said.
Generational shifts, from old-school grit to Gen Z passion
Reflecting on how things have changed over two decades, Ongkowijoyo shared a poignant observation about the generational shift. “In our time, we made sacrifices for the lion dance. We’d skip school or work around exams to perform. It was all about the team and the art,” he said.
Today’s Gen Z performers, he said, are wired differently in terms of commitments and rewards. “After a show, they’ll say, ‘Koh (brother, in Chinese), I need McDonald’s,’ whereas we used to settle for rice and Aqua. It’s a different world, but at least they still have the passion there,” Ongkowijoyo said.
Not only are there generational differences among lion dance performers, even audience expectations of these performances have also shifted. Over the past two decades, Ongkowijoyo and Ksatri’s members have realized that the mindset of 20 years ago needed to shift too. It is now a blend of art, culture, and sports.
Lion dance performances, once confined to religious events, have expanded into a wide range of commercial occasions. From grand openings and store anniversaries to Chinese New Year, Independence Day celebrations, village cleansing ceremonies, and even circumcision parties, lion dance troupes are in high demand. “It’s no longer exclusively tied to Chinese culture,” Ongkowijoyo explained. “We’ve even collaborated with traditional Javanese reog dance performances,” Ongkowijoyo said.
Following the 20th anniversary celebration, embracing the younger generation — particularly through schools — is one of their key priorities. Thus far, the lion and dragon dance group has been associated with risky extracurricular physical activities that hinder kids’ academic progress. “There is a stereotype that barongsai players are rude, mischievous, and leap about. One way we want to change that perspective is by working together to get it into schools as an extracurricular activity.”
As Ksatria looks to the future, their vision remains clear and continues to inspire. “We’ve been through so many phases, so we wanted to preserve it and see it thrive. Money was never the main goal. It’s about the tradition, the art, and the community.” – Rappler.com
Artika Farmita is a journalist and fact-checker for Tempo.co, based in Surabaya, Indonesia. She is one of Rappler’s #FactsMatter Fellows for 2024.