Indonesian jamu is a traditional herbal drink that has been reclaiming its popularity, thanks in no small part to globalised hipster wellness culture. I’ve wanted to write about jamu for a while now, since it’s such a key part of Indonesian culture, but here’s my confession: growing up, I hated drinking jamu. My amma used to force-feed it to me when I was young, so writing about it always got pushed to the bottom of the pile. I know, I know, a biased writer. But a not-so-recent Bali trip brought Indonesian jamu and me closer, so here we are.
Indonesian Jamu in the Olden Days
The history of jamu is as rich as the drink itself. When I was young, there was an mbok jamu who came down our street, going from house to house. A mbok jamu is quite a sight, bottles strapped to her back, calling out her wares, and my amma would always flag her down. Then, once she’d gotten her fix, she would force me to have some too, “because it’s even good for health.”
Eventually, the mbok jamu stopped coming, another vanishing Indonesian traditional trade, though at that time, the young me was grateful for it.
Indonesian Jamu These Days
It was after Covid that I started noticing jamu everywhere in Jakarta. The fad is undoubtedly back, piggybacking on the vegan/vegetarian movement. It was there in the health food section, in Indonesian restaurants, even here in Melbourne. And me? I managed to ignore it as much as I could.
Childhood trauma runs deep.
That is, until our last trip to Bali, where I was suddenly surrounded by Indonesian jamu in every form: from the traditional kind, to jamu on vegan plates, to jamu shrubs and cocktails.
The cocktail was the one that opened a new gate for me. And behold: I kinda liked it.
So much so that I started stocking jamu regularly in our hotel fridge. And it didn’t stop there. Within those three weeks, jamu became my new obsession, from requesting a jamu massage (not recommended when you’re sick, by the way. I was miserable, but that’s a story for another time) to taking a jamu-making class.
A lesson learned, as I grow up, so does my curiosity and here’s to giving the things I disliked as a kid another try. Alas, I hope this jamu story inspires you to give it a go and find your own way in. A drink with a story that starts decades ago deserves a taste, even if (like me) it takes you thirty-odd years to come around.
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