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People around the world have been talking about Robin Hood of late, thanks to Ridley Scott’s recent take on the legend. But what about Robin Hood’s Indonesian counterpart? Mystery shrouds the life of Si Pitung, who many believe stole from the rich and gave to the poor.

To the Betawi people of 19th-century Jakarta, Si Pitung was a hero, feared by the Dutch colonial government. But like most folk legends, Si Pitung’s story is a mix of historical accounts and popular myths. He was believed to have a magical prowess that made him invulnerable to swords and bullets. A thorn in the colonialists’ side, Si Pitung would steal from the government’s coffers. To bring him down, the Dutch put a bounty on his head.

Like the outlawed Robin Hood, Si Pitung was forced to move from one place to another. One of his favorite oases was Marunda village in Cilincing, North Jakarta. The people there were said to have loved the outlaw and harbored him in their homes. Because Marunda is difficult to reach, it was the perfect place to hide from the Dutch, who would lose their way in search of the village.

To celebrate this legend, for all its truths and exaggerations, a house in the village named after Si Pitung was listed as a cultural heritage site by the local council. Today, Marunda village is still difficult to get to. You’ll find no signboards that point the way to him house, but if you get lost, you can just ask the locals.

Marunda is a small fishermen’s village of dilapidated bamboo and wooden huts, food stalls and wide expanses of green swamp. A small bridge that extends from a parking lot to Marunda carries a whitewashed wooden sign that reads “Welcome to Kampoeng Maroenda,” using the old Dutch spelling. From here, you have to walk for about 200 meters to reach the hideout.

The home is deep red and gleams on a sunny day, standing proud among its humble surroundings. Built on stilts two meters above ground, it is practically the tallest building in Marunda. At the time, houses were often built on stilts to avoid flooding during high tide.

There are no guides to take visitors around, but several young men hang around the compound and ask guests to write their names in a worn-out logbook, and make a small “voluntary” contribution before entering.

The house is architecturally a blend of Chinese, Dutch and Betawi styles. The pillars supporting it are hand-carved with rings and clovers at the base, typical to Dutch colonial architecture. The railings at the front terrace feature intricate Chinese wooden grids. Most of the open windows are fixed with krepyak (traditional Betawi louvers or windows with slatted apertures) to allow maximum ventilation.

Typical of Betawi homes, the front terrace is used to welcome guests. There is a set of old rattan furniture with vintage glass jars on the table. The walls in this area feature fine floral and animal carvings and trellis work.

At the center is a vintage kerosene lamp, which has been converted to use an electric light bulb, hanging from the ceiling. On the wall, there is a unique candle holder that features an old ceramic painting from the colonial era. Welcoming us into the house is Si Pitung himself — well, a mannequin of him, anyway.

Dressed in a Betawi-style celana komprang (loose cotton trousers), a black shirt, a sarong draped across the back of his shoulders and a peci (Islamic black felt hat) on his head, Si Pitung is faceless.

“We don’t know what Si Pitung looked like,” said I Gusti Bagus Sutarta, of the tourism division of the North Jakarta administration.

“When we renovated the house last year, it was totally empty,” Bagus said. The administration decided to furnish the house so that visitors would get an idea of what it looked like during Si Pitung’s era.

The renovation project last year involved revamping and furnishing the house, as well as mounting a brief history of Si Pitung’s heroic struggles on the walls.

From these walls, we learn that the house actually belonged to Haji Safiudin, a rich man in Marunda whom Si Pitung had tried to rob. Instead of turning him in to the authorities, Safiudin sympathized with Pitung and agreed to be his patron. Whenever Si Pitung was in Marunda, he stayed in Safiudin’s house.

The living room, in which the homeowner would have entertained guests, is furnished with a set of rattan furniture and a vibrant painting of a traditional Betawi bride and groom from the 1960s.

Adjacent to the living room is the main bedroom. It is furnished with a four-poster bed with the Koran sitting in the center with tasbih (prayer beads), a low table and chair from the art deco era (1925 to the 1940s).

While the furniture does not really match the legend or period, there is an air of authenticity about it. In the dim bedroom, you can almost see Safiudin’s wife applying her makeup in front of the mirror, while her husband discusses matters of importance with Si Pitung in the living room.

The dining room showcases a table set for four made of teak, on which sit kendi (traditional earthen jars for water). A buffet at the corner bears vintage glass jars with colorful plastic fillings, as well as an ornate wood carving of pinisi (traditional Indonesian sailing ship).

Across from the dining room is the playroom furnished with a bamboo-woven mat covering the floors. On the mat is a congklak (traditional children’s game of dice). A set of traditional Betawi music instruments, such as rebana (tambourines) and rebab (fiddle), are hanging on the wall. Maybe this was where Safiudin’s children played before dinner time.

A long corridor stretches from the dining room to the back of the house. On both sides are daybeds made of bamboo. Could these be where Si Pitung and his followers slept during their stay?

The front yard features a pendopo (gazebo), where Si Pitung reputedly received guests. Mangroves and frangipani trees stand in front of the gazebo, creating a tranquil place of respite.

“We’re planning to build an open stage with Si Pitung’s house as the background,” Bagus said.

But the 19th century feel may disappear altogether. “With laser lights, it will be a beautiful place to hold cultural shows in the evenings.”

The tourism division also plans to build a cafe, library and photo studio on the 700-square-meter compound.

“Guests who come to visit can dress like Si Pitung and have their pictures taken,” Bagus said.

Kartum Setiawan, a historian who established the Cultural Exploration Community, lauds the local government’s efforts to preserve Si Pitung’s house.

“The house has rich historical value and represents a unique architectural style that belongs to Marunda village in that era,” he said. “We should protect it against the abrasive coastal air and restore it to its former glory.”