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Authors: Pramoedya Ananta Toer
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revealed to me that my face had been painted in coconut oil with black and white stripes. There was a huge mustache curling right up to my eyebrows. And around my neck there hunga necklace and a piece of cardboard on which was written my new nickname.
But this new nickname was canceled the moment they found out who I had been out to meet that night—VIPs as tall as pine trees. They then had to look at me differently, even though the reality was that I was nothing more than onion fertilizer.
And that wasn’t all that had happened. They had also taken the portrait out of its cover. It had been decorated with all kinds of comments written on bits of paper and placed around the bottom of the portrait. I don’t know how many had given their comments, but there were quite a few. But they had to take it all back too after I threatened to make an issue out of what they had done. No educated person, no matter where they are, would violate the rights of others, I said. Only barbarians engaged in that kind of behavior, and they were barbarians whether or not they had sat on school benches and could read and write. I am ready to defend my rights, I said again, if it is the case that you people do not understand about rights.
But it isn’t my intention to bore you all with stories of the misbehavior of children. Nor is it my intention to note down for you every boring, and sometimes disgusting, incident that occurred in the dormitory. In the midst of all this unpleasantness, the only bright spots were my friendships: with Cupid’s Bow, with Partokleooo, and even with Wilam.
It turned out that Wilam was not the type to hold a grudge. He was considerate and helpful. The stories that proceeded forth from his mouth, now missing two teeth, were always interesting, especially the jokes he told about the English plantation owners.
It was he who told this story for the first time: “Do you all know why it is forbidden to have a
guling
in the dormitory?” He laughed happily at his question.
“Nah, listen well and I will tell you about it. You will not find a guling, that pillow that you all like to have with you in bed, anywhere else in the world. Anyway, that’s what my mama told me. Maybe things will be different in ten years’ time, who knows? The Natives of the Indies have only been using them for a little while. They started copying the Dutch. Everything pleasant brought in by the Dutch is immediately copied, especially by those cotton-brained priyayi. The English laughed at the Dutch for using the guling.
“Only a few of the Dutch brought women with them,” he continued. “It was the same with other Europeans. Once they arrived here they were forced to take concubines. But the Dutch were also known to be really stingy. They wanted to return to Holland as wealthy people. So many of them didn’t want to take concubines. As a replacement for a mistress, they made the guling—a mistress that can’t fart. Hey, you, Kleooo—have you ever come across a mention of the guling in any of the Javanese literature you have read? No, you haven’t. And you, Sutan, what about in Malay literature? A big zero. It just didn’t exist. It was a pure Dutch invention—the mistress that doesn’t fart—’A Dutch Wife.’…”
Whenever he was about to end a story, he always raised his nose and poked out his upper lip as if he were a he-goat.
“And do you know who was the first to give them that name? Raffles, the lieutenant governor-general of the Indies.”
“And the English in the Indies,” added Kleooo, “what was the first thing they did when they arrived in the Indies? They asked for a Dutch Wife, a nonfarting mistress. The Dutch, who considered the English the most miserly and greediest people on earth, named the guling ‘the British Doll.’…”
“You’re making it up, Kleooo!” everyone chided him.
“No, I’m not. My father worked for twenty years for Dutch masters,” Partokleooo boasted proudly.
My friend had
But this new nickname was canceled the moment they found out who I had been out to meet that night—VIPs as tall as pine trees. They then had to look at me differently, even though the reality was that I was nothing more than onion fertilizer.
And that wasn’t all that had happened. They had also taken the portrait out of its cover. It had been decorated with all kinds of comments written on bits of paper and placed around the bottom of the portrait. I don’t know how many had given their comments, but there were quite a few. But they had to take it all back too after I threatened to make an issue out of what they had done. No educated person, no matter where they are, would violate the rights of others, I said. Only barbarians engaged in that kind of behavior, and they were barbarians whether or not they had sat on school benches and could read and write. I am ready to defend my rights, I said again, if it is the case that you people do not understand about rights.
But it isn’t my intention to bore you all with stories of the misbehavior of children. Nor is it my intention to note down for you every boring, and sometimes disgusting, incident that occurred in the dormitory. In the midst of all this unpleasantness, the only bright spots were my friendships: with Cupid’s Bow, with Partokleooo, and even with Wilam.
It turned out that Wilam was not the type to hold a grudge. He was considerate and helpful. The stories that proceeded forth from his mouth, now missing two teeth, were always interesting, especially the jokes he told about the English plantation owners.
It was he who told this story for the first time: “Do you all know why it is forbidden to have a
guling
in the dormitory?” He laughed happily at his question.
“Nah, listen well and I will tell you about it. You will not find a guling, that pillow that you all like to have with you in bed, anywhere else in the world. Anyway, that’s what my mama told me. Maybe things will be different in ten years’ time, who knows? The Natives of the Indies have only been using them for a little while. They started copying the Dutch. Everything pleasant brought in by the Dutch is immediately copied, especially by those cotton-brained priyayi. The English laughed at the Dutch for using the guling.
“Only a few of the Dutch brought women with them,” he continued. “It was the same with other Europeans. Once they arrived here they were forced to take concubines. But the Dutch were also known to be really stingy. They wanted to return to Holland as wealthy people. So many of them didn’t want to take concubines. As a replacement for a mistress, they made the guling—a mistress that can’t fart. Hey, you, Kleooo—have you ever come across a mention of the guling in any of the Javanese literature you have read? No, you haven’t. And you, Sutan, what about in Malay literature? A big zero. It just didn’t exist. It was a pure Dutch invention—the mistress that doesn’t fart—’A Dutch Wife.’…”
Whenever he was about to end a story, he always raised his nose and poked out his upper lip as if he were a he-goat.
“And do you know who was the first to give them that name? Raffles, the lieutenant governor-general of the Indies.”
“And the English in the Indies,” added Kleooo, “what was the first thing they did when they arrived in the Indies? They asked for a Dutch Wife, a nonfarting mistress. The Dutch, who considered the English the most miserly and greediest people on earth, named the guling ‘the British Doll.’…”
“You’re making it up, Kleooo!” everyone chided him.
“No, I’m not. My father worked for twenty years for Dutch masters,” Partokleooo boasted proudly.
My friend had
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