The Dutch farmers had gone to South Africa to seek a better life. Then the English arrived. The Boers fled, crossing the river Vaal, and set up the two new republics. Then gold was found in the Transvaal area. The English returned across the river and war could not be avoided.
Gold! Hope for the future! Defeat for the small and weak. Victory for the big and powerful.
“The English have brought so much trouble to the world,” said Mei. “Empress Tz’u-hsi could not hold them back. In fact, she’s ended up working with them. But we can now count the days that Europe will reign over the colored peoples.”
That was the first time in my life that I had ever heard such an idea.
“There have been so many Europeans who have caused so much suffering in the world.” She told me about Sir John Hawkins, the Englishman who pioneered the slave trade between Africa and America, so that forty million Africans ended up dead or condemned to a life of slavery.
And I had never come across this story before. I had never heard it from anyone or read it anywhere, in school or outside.
5
Once back in Betawi, Mei started to regain her health, and to get her color back. As the wife of a Native, she no longer had to worry about the residency laws.
Ibu Baldrun grew fonder and fonder of her, even though there remained a huge gap in culture and beliefs, tradition and language. And Mei worked as hard as she could to fit in with her new situation.
Ibu Baldrun forbade her to enter the kitchen. Mei was kept busy with the lighter household chores. Ibu wanted my wife to be healthy, plump, and glowing. And Mei became like her own child.
Mei herself didn’t pay much attention to her health. She threw herself perhaps too intensely into her study of Malay, even to the extent of learning the Betawi pronunciations. Her Malay quickly improved. Then an old sickness returned—restlessness at being dependent, even upon her own husband. She started giving Mandarin and English lessons to the children of rich Chinese who lived near Kramat. But when I came home from the auction paper office, I always found her waiting on the veranda reading books that I was never able to read. So we would sit and talk about the day’s events or about something she had just finished reading. It was during these evening discussions that I began to learn much about China.
I also learned the background to Mei’s departure from China for the Indies, although she herself didn’t link her departure to the situation she explained. She and her fiancé—at least that’s how I thought of him—had fled from China after the failure of the Yi He Tuan rebellion, Empress Tz’u-hsi, with the backing of the Western colonialists in China, carried out a vicious crackdown. Even though the rebellion failed, its organizations continued the struggle against the Ching Dynasty. Mei was a member of one of these organizations, I don’t know which one. She mentioned some of their names, but they were too hard for me to remember. So as not to get her suspicious, I never asked her to spell out their names. If I did try to write them down, they’d probably be something like this: Pai Lian Chiao or the White Lilies; Siao Tao Hui or the Small Knives Union; Ke Lao Hui or the Union of Older Brothers; and many others that I can’t remember. It seemed her connection had been with the White Lilies or Small Knives Union.
I was also able to form the impression that she thought the Tong societies were the strongest Chinese organizations in Java. This movement had been founded by Chinese who fled their country after the failure of the Taiping rebellion in the middle of the last century. The Tongs didn’t like the new wave of exiles; they especially disliked those from the White Lilies movement. This was because the White Lilies not only wanted the overthrow of the Ching dynasty but also wanted a total reformation of China and the founding of a republic.
From many of her other accounts of different things about China, I concluded somewhat hesitantly that China was experiencing a period of instability and turmoil. It was different from Japan, which was growing stronger and more assertive. And when I turned to my own country, I also found stability—the stability of Dutch power.
Her stories always contained so much, were about such important and substantial things. I was always embarrassed when she asked me what I had been reading or what new things I had learned at school. But I couldn’t let her stories pass without countering with one of my own. I once decided to tell her one of my best stories from the medical school—about Diwan, a permanent patient at our hospital. He lived in a cage. He was considered a threat to the community. He was suffering from satyriasis, gonorrhea, and syphilis. He had carried out one hundred and nineteen rapes, fifty-one against humans and the rest on animals.
She seemed to sicken after hearing this. I waited for her to ask what satyriasis was. She didn’t ask.
“What was his occupation?”
“He peddled stuff he had scavenged.”
“What schooling did he have?”
“He’s illiterate.”
“If he had an education he would be even more dangerous. Do you remember how our friend in Jepara talked about how life could be its own cage? That would make a more interesting story than satyriasis and venereal diseases.”
“But it’s a medical student’s story. Diwan’s got hemorrhoids now.”
“So?”
“It’s important, Mei. Because he can cause us to pass or fail our exams, to go up a class or down.”
“Ah, you.”
“So you need to listen to this story. Something different from what we heard about in Jepara. Diwan is always used in the symptomology exams. Any student who doesn’t try to get Diwan on his side by sending food and so on is bound to fail. He will pretend to have this or that symptom, and you will make the wrong diagnosis.”
“And you know all his diseases?”
“He’s got another cartload of diseases.”
“I like stories about people who are sane and think clearly. Even if they’ve got sick bodies like me.”
“But there are many who are ill in this world for whom medical knowledge might turn out to be important, Mei. You mustn’t forget that.”
“Yes, the sick must be attended to. But that which destroys life and society does not need to be cured so that it can resume its destruction. It’s more important to cure or replace a sick environment than a sick individual.”
“Then what would happen to all the patients? Who would look after them?”
She laughed.
“Why are you laughing, Mei?”
“That’s for other doctors to worry about. My husband will be doing more than just curing sick bodies. He is also going to cure a way of life that is rotten. You’ll always remember what our friend in Jepara said, won’t you?”
And suddenly I realized the purpose of all her stories about the Taiping, Yi He Tuan, the White Lilies Association, the Small Knives Union, and the Union of Older Brothers. She was leading me to think about what I wanted to do with my life….
Every evening at nine I would set off for the dormitory. Mei always walked with me to the gate. She would stand there until Ibu Baldrun called: “Don’t stay outside too long,” and Mei would go inside.
And when I looked back and she was gone, I would hasten my step.
1904 was a very important year in our lives.
How could I not say it was important? Like thunder out of a clear sky came a letter addressed to me at the school. Everyone there, staff and students, was excited. I had received an invitation from the Secretariat of the Governor-General to attend the reception to celebrate the appointment of Governor-General van Heutsz, who had just replaced Governor-General Rosenboom.
And just because of a letter, everyone now looked upon me with respect, admiration, and amazement. The director and all the other staff reminded me to arrive on time and behave properly so that the school’s name and reputation would rise in the eyes of society.
So on the appointed evening my wife and I attended at the Rijswijk Palace. Ibu Baldrun had dressed Mei in Javanese clothes. And I too wore Javanese clothes in accord with the invitati
on, which indicated that people should dress according to their race.
Before we left home, Ibu Baldrun still had time to ooh and aah as she admired my wife in her Javanese clothes, although she oohed and aahed more about the fact that Mei’s ears weren’t pierced.
All the invited guests were standing in line before the palace steps: the influential officials, residents and assistant residents, sultans, bupatis, directors of government departments, leading plantation administrators, the big importer-exporters, consuls…And among these leading figures were my wife and myself! Who wouldn’t have been amazed. Me—a leading figure in society!
People were summoned by name to enter the palace. Their names were then called out again by the governor-general’s adjutant. Only the foreign consuls and residents were not summoned. They were the first group to enter. The bupatis were called next. Then finally came the one I had been waiting for—my father. He left the bupatis group, and walked confidently and lightly as if walking on a cloud. There was a slit at the back of his shirt so that his bejeweled keris could be displayed. His left hand held the tip of the beautiful batik that he wore as a sarong. At his waist his diamond-studded keris challenged the other bupatis. And his belt shone with the brilliance of nine kinds of precious stones. He strode along, his last step falling exactly at the end of the path. Then he ascended the stairs into the palace with eyes fixed on the reception area inside.
“My father,” I whispered to Mei.
“What should I do if we meet?”
“Let’s hope we don’t meet.”
“That’s not the right attitude.”
“I don’t like patriarchs, no matter who they are.”
“But he’s your father.”
“You have never had a father, Mei.”
Then came the summons for myself and my wife, and I too ascended the stairs, the youngest of those invited, with a narrow-eyed wife with alabaster skin dressed in formal black, who quickly became the center of attention. Who would have guessed that she had entered the Indies illegally!
There were important men and women all about us, all dressed in black. The women carried fans made from sandalwood and peacock feathers or of Japanese paper with drawings in silver or gold ink, and wore silver jewelry, and silk. Everything was gleaming, including my wife. And even the room itself was brilliant, more brilliant than daylight. It was lit with electric chandeliers. Even the shadows could not find a place. And the air was thick with scents from around the world, especially Paris. The women were wearing all their best jewelry, made all the more gleaming for being on black backgrounds.
In the midst of this hubbub of the Indies elite, there was one person whose glances shot about restlessly—father. He wouldn’t dare leave his group—the bupatis. But this night the name of his son had been called out among the guests. He wanted to check for himself; he wanted to make sure there was nothing wrong with his hearing. The son in whom he was so disappointed had been honored with an invitation just like himself and was now here among the rulers.
He would never understand. Neither did I.
Before we left home, I had said to my wife: “We will be entering the den of wild animals.”
When I told her that we had received this invitation from the heavens, she laughed: “To attend a reception for a person who has instituted permanent humiliation upon your people,” she said. “There’s no harm in it. Let’s have a look.”
And now we were in the wild beasts’ cave. All these here in their formal dress were members of the wild animals’ pack. We were just observers, witnesses.
“Have you ever been to a reception like this?”
She shook her head. She looked so beautiful, like a flower in bloom. I was proud to see so many eyes turn in her direction. And it seemed that she was used to being stared at by men. She didn’t feel awkward; neither did she flaunt herself.
There’s no need to retell the details of all the formalities. It was just the usual speeches, shaking of hands, toasts, taking of official photographs, drinking of liquor, laughter, and competitive display of riches.
But one thing did happen that was out of the ordinary. When I shook hands with the governor-general, he remembered me.
“Ah, Mr. Minke,” he said, as if he wasn’t the highest official in the land, as if he wasn’t the representative of Her Majesty. “You look very handsome with your mustache, sir. It’s a pity we haven’t had a chance to meet again. You have no objections, do you, to our getting together to have a bit of a chat now and again?”
“Of course not, Your Excellency,” I answered. “And this is my wife.”
He had already put out his hand.
“You have shown great ability in choosing a wife, sir. Congratulations.”
“Congratulations on your appointment, Your Excellency,” Mei said in English.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Such a long conversation had held up the queue behind us. And I could also see my father standing a little away across in front of us, examining us closely. Perhaps he will be angry with Mei and me for not bowing down before this governor-general, general and victor in the Aceh War. Why, we even dared smile as if he were an old friend.
After the formalities were over, the guests moved about as they wished. Father would now have his chance to look for us.
We sat near a big pillar that had the Dutch flag wrapped round it. Mei was watching what was happening about her. We had no acquaintances among all these big shots. We hadn’t yet joined this pack of wild beasts. And then what I had been fearing happened—my father found us.
I greeted him with a deep bow. He seemed to like that.
“And this is my wife, Father’s daughter-in-law,” I introduced Mei.
My wife also bowed reverently before him.
“And why haven’t you visited Mother in B—–?” he asked Mei.
“I just follow what my husband says,” I translated.
“What language is that, son?”
“English, Father.”
“God Almighty! A daughter-in-law who speaks English!” and to me: “You’ve got a strange way of choosing a woman.”
After the reception was over, we went by carriage to his hotel, Hotel Des Indes. He was very friendly and asked many questions of my wife. He ordered someone to take us home and asked that we come back the next morning. He promised to send a carriage. He didn’t try to lord it over me. It was as if he had never behaved in the past the way he had, as if the past had not left its wounds within me.
And I knew it was all because I had received an invitation from the governor-general’s office.
Only Mei went back the next day. That afternoon, when I was working at the auction paper office, I tried to imagine the two of them sitting across from one another, unable to speak one with the other. They probably spent their time just oohing and aahing, shaking their heads and grinning. Or would Father think to hire a hotel translator? He probably would never think of doing anything like that.
But when I got back to Ibu Baldrun’s, it was something different that I found. Father, dressed in an ordinary suit, was waiting. Ibu Baldrun was busy preparing a meal for a bupati—she was cutting up three chickens! Mei was entertaining father. She was wearing far too much jewelry. No doubt Father had bought it for her at the hotel. And it wasn’t just any jewelry! Ai! how the Javanese aristocrat likes to show off when he gives gifts. Never caring if it will take him years to pay it all off later, or that it will be repaid only with great difficulty. The main thing is to defend one’s prestige.
Father greeted me as if I were also a bupati. He didn’t demand I crawl along the floor. We all sat on the same divan. He was extraordinarily friendly. Perhaps he was proud that he had a son and daughter-in-law who had received an invitation from the governor-general. He’ll be telling that story everywhere. My son’s not even a bupati and he has already been honored with such an invitation! He and van Heutsz chatted and laughed together! None of his children-in-law nor any of his other children had ever
received such an honor.
Now he didn’t feel humiliated to be sitting at the same level as his son and daughter-in-law. And it was Mei who was the first to be honored in that way. It was the first time Father did not feel cheated not to receive obeisance. Perhaps he already understood—in his grandchildren’s time, in the future, making obeisance would disappear from the face of the earth. Only those with a slave mentality would still be doing it.
He asked about Mei’s antecedents.
“She is a person who was born into this world without ever knowing her father or mother.” He listened as if he was capturing some kind of secret knowledge. “She was brought up in an orphanage in Shanghai, and graduated from teachers’ college. Then she came to the Indies to find me.”
“So you have been in contact with each other through correspondence.”
“That is the case, Father.”
“It seems that the search for a mate no longer bothers about crossing land and sea. It’s only crossing different ages that is not possible,” he said. And to my wife: “When will you come to B—–? I and your mother will put on the biggest wedding party ever for you both.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Father.”
“You don’t regret not having a celebration?”
“It’s not a matter of having regrets, Father. It’s just that our situation doesn’t permit us to go to B—–I’m too busy with my studies and my work, and so too is my wife. She doesn’t want to leave her pupils.”
“You both work! Why should a woman work when she already has a husband? Is the husband worth so little that the wife must also go out and struggle?”
Now the trouble would start. We didn’t answer.
“Only among peasants and in the villages, that’s the only place where you find both working. Or among the peddlers and small traders. And peasants and peddlers do not receive invitations from His Excellency, the governor-general. You two do not properly appreciate the honor.”
Seeing a somewhat unfavorable situation emerging, Mei retired to the kitchen. And so this patriarch now had his chance to once more become my king.