The officers carried long poles with knives attached to their ends. Several were in full combat gear gripping rifles. Some of the residents ran home and locked their doors, while others chose to try to prevent the officers from coming further into the neighborhood.

"Tear it down! Put it all down! This is an order!" snapped one of the officers while cutting down banners put up by the residents around the neighborhood. The banners protested the efforts of a nearby hotel to drive residents out of neighborhood, at the northern end of Surabaya, East Java. The residents used old clothes and homemade banners to display provocative messages such as “CAUTION: perverted hotel area”, “The land belonging to the residents does not belong to the hotel!” and “Get rid of the corrupt mole”. These protests did not sit well with the hotel’s management, who, according to residents, asked local thugs and officers to get rid of the nuisance.

The residents were frightened by what was a joint operation by the military and the Public Order Agency (Satpol PP). They were told to take down all of the banners, which they did under duress, but later that night, after all the officers had left, the residents began putting them back up.

The old kampung of Tambak Bayan has been dubbed a “Chinatown” because it is almost exclusively inhabited by poor Chinese-Indonesians. They have struggled to hold on to their homes for more than a decade. Their will to fight has never subsided.

"We were born here. It is natural that we defend this place until our last breath," said Lim Kiem Hau, 40, who is familiarly known as Gepeng.

Gepeng is a third-generation inhabitant of Tambak Bayan. The neighborhood has been inhabited by five generations of Chinese-Indonesians in all. Gepeng’s ancestors came from China to Surabaya around 1866.

Bo Hek, the oldest person in the neighborhood, is one of only 4 people there still practicing the tradition of Confucianism. He said that almost everyone else had converted to Christianity. Born in 1949, the father of 3 and grandfather of many (he has lost count) doesn’t say much except a repeated mantra of “this is my history”, referring to the neighborhood.

Murtini, a woman in her 50s whose husband died in 2010, says that like many widows, she lives alone as her children have left the kampung. Many residents in their twenties and thirties have left the kampung to seek better lives, though not without challenges, as most have only a high school education. Of the people The Jakarta Post spoke to, only one had gone to college.

The residents make their livings by selling woodwork, mostly furniture. They live almost exclusively on a diet of rice and eggs.

Initially, the kampung was a horse stable. After the Dutch left, the stables were transformed into residences. Their walls are made of wood, and whenever there is a new birth, the narrow rooms, averaging 4 by 5 meters, are renovated and expanded.

Around 2007, after Tambak Bayan had been occupied for more than a century, a nearby hotel claimed the land belonged to them. A long conflict ensued as residents made a number of attempts to keep their homes.

"In terms of economic conditions, the residents here are classified as underprivileged. If we have to leave this place, where can we live?" said Suseno, head of Tambak Bayan’s neighborhood unit (RT). Although the hotel repeatedly offered relocation options for the residents, they never felt comfortable with them. The locations were often far from the city center or, in Seno’s words, “absurd”.

"Once they offered to relocate us to the Kenjeran area, but it turned out that the location was in the middle of an Islamic grave. The other option was Simokatrungan, but the residence was also surrounded by tombs. Our many children and grandchildren were afraid. After all, we are human; we are still alive. Why did they ever think of putting the living among the dead, anyway?” said Seno, who is in his 50s.

“Though our lives here are simple, it doesn’t matter. They’re simple and better,” he added.

On about three hectares of land, some 60 families share living space. Typically, one to three families share an area of 4 by 5 meters. There are about 43 homes in the neighborhood.

“We also want to live on 'legal' and proper land like other people. But we know well enough what our condition is. Aside from that, the reason I’ve survived and maintained the land is because of a mandate from the ancestors. This is for the common good. Everyone here is still related. We come from the same ancestors,” Seno said.

Kampung-level resistance

In addition to advocacy work, such as distributing flyers to garner solidarity from fellow Chinese communities and residents of Surabaya, the neighborhood also holds activities involving non-residents.

The residents provide space for students and Surabayan artists to draw murals and hold art exhibitions. Various art collectives, from Milisi Fotocopy to Orange House Studio, have held exhibitions at Tambak Bayan. Silampukau, a folk band from Surabaya, has also taken part in promoting the place. They even launched their debut album, Dosa, Kota dan Kenangan (Sin, City and Memories), in Tambak Bayan.

This outreach was part of a strategy by residents to make their kampung known by the outside community. If people were familiar with Tambak Bayan, they reasoned, it would be easier to build support for the neighborhood’s preservation.

“Once, in a heated conflict during an attempted forced eviction, we were assisted by friends from various communities. They formed a 'fence' for us. I still don't know what moved them. We can't even contribute anything to return the favor. I’m always moved whenever I remember the solidarity,” Seno said, his eyes wandering as he recalled the moment.

Substituting art for festivities

This year's Chinese New Year is not as lively as those of previous years: no firecrackers or lion dance parties, no visiting neighbors and no mooncake sharing. The pandemic has made the residents anxious. In early January, a family in the area contracted COVID-19.

"We’re thinking of isolating ourselves, but how can we do so? It’s always crowded here, and families live in narrow spaces. No one in the kampung knew what to do to help our sick neighbors,” sighed Seno.

Previously, lion dances were a Chinese New Year certainty, followed by a massive firecracker party. Residents also set up a holiday market offering Chinese snacks.

Fortunately, local artists are holding an archive exhibition in the neighborhood, called Re-Calling Tambak Bayan, marking a decade of civic resistance. It would be at least some form of celebration, the residents said.

Apart from having to mark the end of the year in relative quiet, the shadow of eviction has returned to haunt the residents. The hotel management seemed to have given up trying to acquire the land in 2015, but in 2019, a businessman from Madura claimed to be the heir to the land and mobilized thugs to intimidate the residents.

"Along this wall, posters were suddenly attached, claiming, 'This land belongs to [the businessman’s] family,’” Seno said.

“The certificate brought by that man was strange. He claimed the land was 5 hectares. We don't think it’s even half that size. But he insisted that he had the official certificate.”

Gepeng laughed sarcastically recalling the claim, saying he was willing to go to great lengths to prevent his community from being harassed.

"Until I die, I will defend my kampung. Even at the price of my own life.”

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