Twilight in Djakarta (8 page)

‘Money ’lready ’ll gone. Wages only day ’fter tomorrow!’ muttered Itam in reply.

‘Finish, juss go home, ’t’s raining, see,’ shouted Bang Miun,
the driver, to Saimun.

‘Try one more debt with ’Bu Jom,’ Itam suggested to Saimun.

‘She, no, will not give ’s time. Debt of past week, not yet paid,’ answered Saimun.

‘Aiih, can try, see,’ said Itam.

‘Get plenty ’buse,’ answered Saimun.

‘What harm from ’buse, see?’ asked Itam.

Because of the rain, Ibu Jom had moved her portable stall across the railway line, to wait out the weather under a
coffee-shop’s
roof. The coffee-shop was empty. And on the small benches owned by Ibu Jom not a person sat. Her eyes were sharp and cold as she saw Itam and Saimun approaching.

‘Want to pay your debts?’ she asked sharply.

Itam and Saimun looked around, and then Saimun said,

‘Wah, ’Bu, when no wages yet?’

‘So, borrow more you want?’

‘Help out, ’Bu, ’lready hungry, see!’

The old woman food-vendor, with a cold look, told them both to sit down, efficiently filled two plates with rice and then added in each a spoonful of vegetable broth.

‘Nah,’ said Ibu Jom, ‘all I know is debts!’

Neither of the two said anything, but they both ate voraciously. After having eaten some spoonfuls, Itam started praising Ibu Jom. The goodness of her heart, her attractive appearance, her excellent cooking. Gradually the old woman’s resentment mellowed, and from a tin she poured them each a cup of coffee.

‘What other place ’d do it,’ she grumbled. ‘Not even for a cent’s debt will they give.’

‘But not if her name Ibu Jom. Where’s ’nother Ibu Jom in Djakarta?’

‘’Nly one!’ praised Itam.

‘You two boys, why not look find other work?’ asked Ibu Jom later.

‘Ah, me, I ’lready learn steering now,’ Saimun declared. ‘When ’lready can, soon become taxi or oplet driver.’

‘Me, I’ll work together with Saimun,’ added Itam.

‘Why you not look find inside work?’ asked Ibu Jom.

‘In an office? Not possible. How can office people want know garbage man, ’Bu!’ Itam replied.

‘Yah,’ added Saimun, ‘ev’n just be watchman, but people ’n office, see, no want noth’n to do with us. Same wages, same per day. But nobody’ll want to know us.’

‘Ah, rain will not stop, let’s go home, ’Mun, ’yo!’ Itam prodded Saimun.

They both got up and hurried out into the rain.

‘Aduh,’ said Saimun. ‘My body, see, getting weaker. Hunger, see, makes stomach burn. Too little rice, was ’fraid to ask for more.’

‘Me too,’ said Itam. ‘Neneng, still ’round.’

‘Yes. But ’lready gone. She’s in the hut of Uwak Salim, in Kaligot now. Wah, one time I see her, ’lready new outfit, powder, lips red. Wants not to see me.’

Saimun kept quiet. Ever since Neneng had left their hut to go to Kaligot and become professional he felt as if he were lost. It wasn’t clear to him just what it was that he missed, but it was as if Neneng had left in him a great emptiness. There was nothing to go home to. As if he could now sleep just anywhere. He was really grieved to have been abandoned just like that, without even a farewell. Yet, had Neneng taken leave from him, he wouldn’t have known what he’d have done either. He only felt joyless. But could not name that which he felt.

Vaguely, vaguely, somewhere floated visions of life continuing with Neneng, and somewhere far, far away, there was the crying of a little baby, causing confusion in his mind. A small house, a small plot of ground, he and Neneng. But all this was finished now.

Suddenly Saimun was rattled into wakefulness by the frantic blowing of a car horn behind him, brakes screeched on the wet
asphalt, he felt Itam’s strong push which threw him aside to the edge of the street, felt the impact of his ribs hitting the pavement, knocking out his last breath until tears spurted from his eyes and then a loud voice was scolding him,

‘Hey, you fool, want to be killed? Where’re you walking? Idiot!’

Then there was the sound of an accelerating motor, and a beautiful car swiftly receded into the rain. Only his body was still wet from the water spattered by the wheels. Itam quickly helped him to his feet.

‘You’re dreaming about what, ’Mun?’ he asked him. ‘Lucky I push you quick.’

Saimun stood, followed with his eyes the diminishing form of the car in the distance, not knowing what he ought to think.

In the car Suryono drew Dahlia’s body closer to himself and murmured,

‘A real inlander.
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Was almost crushed to death. Doesn’t even know how to walk. How can Indonesia make progress?’

Dahlia giggled and laced her arm around Suryono’s waist.

‘All right, twenty-five thousand rupiah,’ said Sugeng to Said Abdul Gafur, the old Arab. He had just inspected a small house on the Probolinggo Street.

‘And the housing permit, cleared,’ he reminded the old Arab again.

‘Ah, the housing permit will be in order, don’t worry.’

‘I’ll pay when the housing permit is issued,’ Sugeng reiterated.

‘Yes, you needn’t pay anything now, tuan. When the permit is assured, and the key is in your hands, then you’ll make payment. Why shouldn’t I trust a ministry official?’ answered the old Arab.

‘When can I move in?’ Sugeng asked a Dutchman who was
coming out of the house towards them.

‘I am leaving on the M.S.
Oranje
on the tenth of August,’ said the Dutchman.

‘Ah, I will arrange all that myself. I’ll come and bring you the key, I’ll have some people occupy the place, so nobody can seize it.’

Sugeng thanked the Dutchman and climbed into a waiting car.

In the car the Arab said to Sugeng,

‘Nah, here I’m helping you, tuan, and you, tuan, help me. You will get forty thousand rupiah for the licence which we are getting. I will retain twenty-five for the key money.
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You know that this house is owned by a friend of mine. We must pay off that Dutchman, we must pay the U.P.D.
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official to clear the permit. You understand.’

‘Yes, it doesn’t matter,’ said Sugeng. ‘What I need is to get the house now. The licence is already issued. Don’t be afraid. You may come to the office tomorrow and get it.’

The old Arab took Sugeng’s hand and shook it repeatedly.

When the car stopped in front of Sugeng’s house he said,

‘Ah, please excuse me, tuan, I’ll not get out. It’s raining. And it’s near magrib
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time.’

‘All right,’ Sugeng replied. ‘Many thanks. And see to it that nothing goes wrong.’

‘
Masja Allah
,
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tuan, don’t worry about anything. Be assured it’s all clear. I guarantee.’

Sugeng ran lightly across his front garden, and when near the verandah noticed Dahlia standing before the door to her room.

‘Ah, caught by the rain?’ Dahlia asked him.

‘You’re wet, too, caught by the rain?’ Sugeng answered.

‘I just came in,’ replied Dahlia.

Sugeng stepped to his part of the verandah and hastened inside.

Hasnah sat in a chair sewing her baby’s clothes. Sugeng went to her quickly, embraced her and whispered,

‘The tenth we’re moving, Has! I found a house for you.’

Hasnah exclaimed with joy,

‘True?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you get it?’

‘From Housing. The permit is cleared. Got it from the office.’

‘Aduh, I know. If only one persists, and does everything necessary the right way, one cannot fail to get it.’

Hasnah drew Sugeng close to herself, and whispered into his ear, ‘I love you.’

Sugeng felt as though he were choking. Also as though his body were suddenly drained. It was the first time he had lied to Hasnah. Until now there had been no secret between them. Hasnah, sensing something, asked,

‘What is it, kak?’
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Sugeng forced a smile, laid his arm around Hasnah’s shoulders and said,

‘Nothing. I’m just happy that we’ve got a house at last.’

And inwardly he swore to himself that this would be the one and only time that he would engage in corruption. Never again. Sugeng embraced and kissed Hasnah with such passion that Hasnah was startled and cried out,

‘Aduh, my belly. Naughty, that’s what you are.’

‘Ah, forgive me, friends, I am late,’ said Suryono, entering. ‘Good evening, Ies.’

He sat down near Iesye. It was the usual evening meeting at Pranoto’s house.

Murhalim, who was talking, waved a hand to Suryono and then said,

‘After this brief interruption caused by the arrival of our highly esteemed brother Suryono, may I now continue my talk?’

‘It might be good to recapitulate what you’ve said so far, brother Murhalim, so that brother Suryono can follow this discussion fully,’ suggested Pranoto.

‘Ah, no need,’ quickly responded Suryono. ‘Just continue.’

‘The problem confronting us with regard to our relationships with Europe is which of Europe’s basic values should we accept, and which to reject. This question is obviously not new, and one which our people have been facing a long time. Also, it is not exclusively an Indonesian problem, but a problem that confronts all Asian peoples. We may take as an example the case of the Japanese. As we know, the Japanese have learned all the secrets of Western technological progress, and have used them to build up their own nation. Brother Pranoto once wrote that before they’d be able to utilise Western technology our people must first undergo a psychological change. Just as an example, take our Indonesian fishing community – you can’t give them modern equipment, such as motorised boats, etc., before all their old beliefs are changed – only then will they be able to make full use of it. So, for instance, there is one fishing village where, I understand, there are strict taboos connected with their fishing gear which is still very primitive. But the advent of engines and all sorts of modern appliances which will overcome the problems of tropical nature and climate will change all this. Their whole way of life must be changed to conform to the acceptance and utilisation of this European technology. Similarly, the expansion of industry, with the use of machines in factories, in mines, in transportation equipment, on land, at sea and in the air, in the offices of the government and in private enterprise, all this brings new values into the life of Indonesian society. The question of the spiritual values which underlie this technology is rather complicated, and – should Indonesian life be made to conform with this new
technological sphere, or must the technology from Europe be made to harmonise with the Indonesian spirit? These are the questions which arise, and it is my hope that we can discuss them tonight.’

‘May I be permitted to say a few words first?’ asked Pranoto. ‘Since brother Murhalim has just mentioned my writings, I’d like to explain that when I wrote that the spiritual life of the people must change in order to receive European technology I didn’t mean it as an absolute condition. More precisely, I meant to indicate that if we wish to preserve harmony in our society the acceptance of technology makes a change in the people’s mentality inevitable.’

‘Ah,’ said Suryono, ‘I am baffled. Why do we worry about whether or not to accept European values? Considering the developments in the world today, it makes little sense to toss around the problem of ourselves and Europe. It would be more to the point, in my opinion, to discuss the problem of ourselves and America, or our problems vis-à-vis communism as represented by the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China. As a matter of fact, the perpetuation of Europe’s civilisation depends on American help. Therefore this discussion is just meandering and is quite useless. I suggest that we undertake a study of ourselves in relation to America and ourselves in relation to communism.’

‘Seeing that the divergence of opinion between me and brother Suryono is so great,’ said Murhalim, ‘there would be little use of my attempting to convince him of the reason why we’re discussing our inter-relationship with Europe.’

‘Ah, I can really agree with brother Suryono,’ interposed Achmad. ‘The present world situation makes it quite impossible for us to consider problems of our relationships with only one part of the world. Moreover, what do we really mean by Europe? Today Europe is no longer the Europe of before the Second World War, the Europe which left such a strong influence in Asia. If we want to look at our problems, the problems of ourselves in relation to the world – and I think that only in this context are they worth
considering: our country, and ourselves, and the world – then all this confusion, all the complications will be cleared up if only we apply the principles of Marxism. If we’re willing to adhere to historical materialism our problems can be quickly solved. Marx has demonstrated the historical initiative of the masses. Read Lenin’s book about Marx, Engels and Marxism ….’

‘Ah, this is where we go wrong,’ spoke Pranoto. ‘If brother Achmad continues to expound ideas based on communist practices in Russia, our debate will never end. As I see it, all of us here have assembled as supporters of the concept of democracy, and we reject a totalitarian system, whether it be fascism or communism, as a method for building up our nation and assuring its progress.’

His face distorted with anger, Achmad stood up, looked at each of them in turn and, when he spoke at last, his voice trembled. ‘I greatly regret brother Pranoto’s words. Because to me they mean the same as closing the door to my further participation in this study club. If every time I want to express my opinions you all immediately brand communism as evil and unacceptable, then what’s the use of my attending these discussions? I’ve seen it for some time, these meetings of yours make no sense. You keep talking here night after night, but what are you doing? This is the difference, brothers, between you and us. I am indeed a follower of Marx and Lenin. But, in addition to theorising, we also work. We go to the worker and the tani,
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whom you say you want to protect, but whom you do not even know. We are convinced that we must win. We are convinced that we are right. Even now, brothers, you don’t know where you stand and what it is that you should be doing. I bid you all farewell ….’