“Row…! Row…! Row…!”
The cheers of thousands erupt from the riverbank. The rhythmic beat of drums fills the air, blending with the splashes of water split by each heart-pounding stroke. With steady hands and blazing determination, the rowers brace to conquer the current. Under the sky of Tangerang, the Cisadane River once again becomes a stage for a heritage that has journeyed across oceans and millennia. The Peh Cun Festival in Pasar Lama is more than a race—it’s a convergence of history and passion that refuses to fade.
Lepas Ancak: Prayers Carried Downstream
Before the drums beat and the dragon boats slice through the water, there is a sacred ritual that is never skipped: Lepas Ancak. A small bamboo raft, adorned with flowers, candles, and offerings, is gently released into the river as an homage to ancestors and a plea for the safety and smooth sailing of the racers.
“This ancak is meant for those who are unseen,” said Ci Elsa calmly, yet with deep meaning, during the Benteng Walking Tour on April 22, 2025.
It’s not just one raft that is released, there are nine ancak, set adrift at nine sacred points along the Cisadane River. These locations are revered as part of an inherited tradition: behind the tofu factory, Taman Gajah, Babakan prayer hall, the water utility area, Tangga Ronggeng, Kalipasir Mosque, the Robinson area, Gerendeng Mosque, and Indraloka Temple. These places are more than geographic markers—they are cultural symbols that bind diverse faiths and sustain the harmony of those who live side by side.
But more than just symbols, these ancak hold profound meanings. Atop each raft lies white and yellow rice, bananas, oranges, apples, starfruit, hard-boiled eggs, seven kinds of flowers, betel leaves, various meats, and candles. Arranged neatly on banana leaves over a bamboo frame. Plastic cups filled with coffee, tea, and milk accompany them. Each raft is a miniature vessel of hopes and prayers for the river spirits’ blessings, for a race unmarred by misfortune, and for the spirit of unity to flow like the Cisadane itself.
For the Chinese-Indonesian community in Tangerang, this tradition is as essential as any part of the Duanwu Jie festival in China an enduring tribute to ancestral spirits and river deities. As the ancak drift away, they carry with them hopes for a smooth race, a river that grants blessings, and the preservation of togetherness.
From Miluo to Cisadane: An Eternal Story Etched in Ripples
Long before the first row ever struck the waters of the Cisadane, a story unfolded on the banks of the Miluo River in ancient China during the Zhou Dynasty. There, a scholar and minister named Qu Yuan left a mark on history. A poet, statesman, and patriot who loved his
homeland above all else, Qu Yuan became a threat to political elites. Slandered and exiled, he witnessed the fall of his country to enemy forces. In protest and despair not of defeat, but of injustice, he chose to end his life in the river.
But the people who admired him did not remain still. In wooden boats, they rowed furiously in an attempt to save him. They threw rice dumplings, now known as zongzi or bakcang into the river to keep fish and evil spirits from disturbing his soul. From that sorrowful moment, Duanwu Jie, or the Peh Cun Festival, was born. What began as mourning evolved into a spirited tradition deeply rooted in Chinese culture, now celebrated across rivers worldwide including the Cisadane.
Before the race begins, an intriguing scene unfolds at the riverbank. A team huddles together in warm-up formation, shouting in rhythm: “One, two! One, two!” stretching their arms and rotating their shoulders. Sweat glistens, but their spirits burn brighter. Their eyes are fixed on the river, as if they’re already merging with the current ready to carve their own triumph into the river’s surface.
Today, that legacy continues on the Cisadane River. Dragon boats adorned with majestic dragon heads glide over the water, carrying a timeless spirit. Dozens of rowers sit in unison, synchronized to the beat of a drummer at the helm whose cadence echoes through the air and into the chest. Each row isn’t just a test of strength, it’s an act of harmony. A metaphor for how humankind must move together to achieve victory.
The boats captivate with their vivid colors, fiery reds, emerald greens, and golden yellows reflecting sunlight off the water. Fourteen teams compete this year. In each round, two boats
race head-to-head, generating waves of adrenaline. Yet sportsmanship remains front and center.
The riverbanks become seas of spectators. Cheers erupt, interwoven with the pounding of drums that fuel the racers’ resolve. One boat surges forward, another closes in.
“Green, row! Red’s catching up!” yells a spirited spectator, their voice cutting through the crowd’s roar.
The competition is fierce, but beyond the glory of winning, this race is an embodiment of values passed down by generations.
In Pasar Lama, the festival isn’t just a water sport event. It’s a living cultural celebration at every corner. Food stalls serve sweet kue keranjang, chewy kwecang, and bakcang once thrown into rivers, now devoured with reverence. Amidst the crowd, lion dancers leap with agility, breathing life into the festivities.
And then comes the unmistakable sound of Gambang Kromong. Its unique blend of Chinese instruments like the tehyan and sukong with traditional Betawi percussion, kendang, kecrek, and gambang stops people in their tracks. Within moments, the celebration intensifies. Cheers rise, laughter flows freely, all woven into a harmony that reflects the multicultural tapestry of Tangerang, where Chinese and Betawi cultures have coexisted for centuries.
Ripples That Never Fade
More than a festival, this is proof that history never truly sinks. It flows with the river, travels through time, and finds new homes around the world. In Tangerang, the Dragon Boat Festival Peh Cun is not just another date on the calendar. It is a celebration of togetherness, where anyone can be part of a tradition that has endured for over two thousand years.
And when the sun dips toward the western horizon, as the races conclude and the river settles, one thing remains: the flame of spirit, burning on like dragons that never stop swimming through the currents of memory.
