Stories from Deli

Kleain, Deli Planter

Lebaran! – the end of the fasting month.

No holiday is seen with such a desire as this day. Just as the children in Europe are looking forward to Christmas weeks before, not so much for the joyful memory of Christ’s birth, but more for the presents they hope to find under the Christmas tree, so the contract is fulfilled with what Lebaran will bring him. . In addition to his earned salary, he receives an advance of five guilders. This wealth opens wide perspectives. New clothes, sweets, not to mention gambling until the last cent has disappeared.

Also a piece of meat and cigarettes from the company, in the evening plenty of ramé-ramé. The javaan likes to socialize. Music, dance and theater. His usually inscrutable and unimaginable face radiated pleasure that day.

With what childish pleasure, he walks with his silk bathjoe smelling. In his pocket, silver pieces rattle, which he exchanges before and after with the numerous fruit and manisan sellers for the seductively displayed wares.

The odorous straw of every day has been replaced by a “tjap gadjah” cigarette. He feels like the tuan sendiri today.

As a Westerner you have to get used to the strange fashion view of the dressed-up coolie on Sundays.

One has had a suit made from brightly colored curtain fabric, on which red and yellow flowers form the main motif, with which a circus clown would have resounding success. The other, probably inspired by a Wild West film he saw on Java years ago, is wearing a cowboy hat. Even the elegantly knotted neckerchief has not been forgotten. That he is wearing flowered and far too short trousers, instead of the fringed leather riding breeches will not be taken into account. The women showed more taste. It seems as if her beautiful black hair and dark eyes are the cause that even the most diverse colors harmonize remarkably.

The artfully tie-dyed sarong, pulled very tightly around the waist, makes the slender hips stand out. The bright yellow, green or red colored silk jacket is very elegant.

The children are also worth seeing. The different combinations of clothing and headgear are a problem.

You wonder whether deliberate clowning or naive tailoring of European dress garbled the youth in this way. But nevertheless, they think they are wonderfully chic, so why see anything ridiculous in it?

Full of pleasure and complacency, astonishing and glorious glances go over fur and lavishly dressed offspring. Father barely recognizes in that gaudily battered doll the brown naked little fellow who was still twirling in a parit under the mud splashes yesterday.

Everyone is delighted; this demonstrates the good spirit on the kebon. While the advances are being paid, Mr. De Korte walks among the squatting women and children, chatting here and there. So mas, you look so beautiful. Young, young, what a nice hat. Ma beams and says to her anxious, hiding daughter, “ajo dan, bilang, tabéh tuan besaaahar, kó maloe”. Then say, goodbye, great lord, she’s shy.

After the payout, where each coolie received two packs of cigarettes as a present, all gather at the pondok, where the buffalo will be slaughtered.

The Mohammedan priest, stands in the center, armed with a razor-sharp parang. The buffalo are in close proximity, bound tightly, unaware of the fate that awaits them.

The hadji casts serious glances at the sun and ceaselessly mutters arabic proverbs. The longer this takes, the longer he looks at the position of the sun, the higher the tension becomes in the crowded bystanders.

Finally the time seems favorable. With a calm but strong stroke the priest cuts the neck of one of the buffalo.

The following suffer the same fate.

As soon as this ritual part is over, the faces of the coolies relax. The laughter and booing resumes. A dozen javanese are now beginning to dissect the dead animals. Quickly and extremely deftly, they cut huge chunks into small, equal portions, which are neatly placed next to each other on banana leaves.

Plow by plow the women and men squat around the pieces of meat on display. As an encore, there is a piece of skin, some intestines and skins on each pile. Literally nothing is lost. Everything is suitable for consumption or other purposes.

All eyes are fixed on the main mandur. After his command ‘grab’, everyone grabs the portion in front of him or her. Laughing they then make way for the next team. Everything goes neat and tidy. All are excited and noisy. No wonder, they don’t get meat with their dry rice every day.

Monsieur De Korte ordered Oedin to assemble the coolies, after the meat had been brought away, on the wide open plain opposite the oxen. The sports competitions would be held there.

A tent had been built in the center. In it, displayed on a table, were all kinds of desirable objects, such as: shorts, jackets, handkerchiefs, cigarettes, pieces of smelling soap, mirrors, nickel buckles, rings, earrings, etc., etc., too many to mention.

Mr. De Korte would hand the prizes to the winner. Each of the employees had gathered some of the people around him.

Hartman had the men climb masts. With screams and shouts, several of the frontrunners slid back along the soap-smeared pole, looking up in disappointment at the prices unattainable for them.

Hundreds of eager eyes looked at the fine leather waist belt, the wrapped packages of surprises, but above all at the nickel watch that glittered alluringly at the top of the mast.

Ajo Masot, you give it a try.

Masot, a short fat fellow, with a rice belly for two, looked with childlike longing eyes at the high-hanging clock and began to scramble upward with hasty jerks. To loud encouragement from the spectators, he had already progressed halfway through when fatigue forced him to give up his efforts.

May I try sir, asked mandur Aloen.

Go ahead.

Unlike the previous climbers, Aloen climbed up with conscious calm. The tension increased as the mandur progressed.

Ajo mandur, sediket lagi, just a short way. Undisturbed Aloen climbed further, higher and higher, towards the goal.

Now he stretched out his arm and, amid thunderous cheers from the spectators, he grabbed the watch.

Taking the chain into his mouth, he let himself slide down quickly.

Everyone had to see the watch, some were even allowed to hold it.

Oentung mandur, nasip lah, you are lucky mandur.

I had gathered the women around me.

Come here Koemi, and Toemina, get in those bags. Which of you is first to the tent will receive a prize from the tuan besar. Nga mahoe saja.

Why do not you want ?

Malu tuan. Shy.

Come on, don’t be childish, get in.

Koemi and Toemina stepped into the empty rice sacks. The hundreds of women standing in a wide circle around us giggled and chuckled at the shyness of the first two daredevils.

Well watch out. When I say tiga, you run away.

Satu… hey wait a minute Toemina, I haven’t said three yet, have I?

Again.

Satu… doewa… ah camel children, back again. Here on that line.

Watch out, wait until I say three. Satoe… doewa… tiga!

With a jerk, Toemina jumped off the ground with both feet at the same time and, after making two tumbles, struck out on the grass.

The laughter and cheering of the spectators rang out all over the field; the various men’s teams also rushed over.

Kumi hopped on, clutching the bag tightly around his hips with both hands.

Lekas, lekas lagi, the crowd howled. Faster, Faster.

Tumina had risen again. With a quick movement, knotting her loose hair, she began to chase Kumi.

Now the cries of encouragement applied to her.

Kumi, noticing her pursuer, exerted all her strength and changed tactics.

The successfully applied hop jump turned into the alternating movement of the feet. This was fatal for her.

About ten meters away from the tent, where Mr. De Korte was holding up a beautiful silk bath, she stumbled and spun against the ground.

Toemina made good use of this and with short, deliberate jumps, she was the first to reach the tent got courageous. Several women offered to measure her strength against each other. The beautiful silk jacket of the winner just now was also worth putting aside all embarrassment.

Prizes had been lavishly arranged, and although they were not precious, they were gratefully received.

The children were not forgotten either. Three cardboard boxes opened, and with joyful eyes the preschoolers received the presents from the great lord. They were too dazed to say thanks. La ilah, how beautiful. Beaded necklaces, gold-plated silver rings, la, la, la.

The delighted exclamations of the so little spoiled children testified that the clerk knew his people well, and… had a heart for them. Two large barrels were filled with water into which a few bottles of lemonade essence were mixed. Young and old alike, men and women, enjoyed this lavish treat.

The enthusiasm remained until the stomach asserted itself. The tongue tongue at the office hit twelve and many left the sports field to cook their rice. Today there would be meat, which probably made the appetite even greater. The boss invited us to come and have a glass of beer with him and then enjoy the bami table.

I’m just in front of it, replied Rensema, my throat is like leather and my stomach grunts like a wild boar.

Where are Morain and van Berghe today? I haven’t seen them. Karei went to Medan and Morain went to the doctor this morning. He has a minor infection on his foot.

Shall we sit under the trees to the side of the house? It’s cooler there than in there.

Giant idea, Mr. De Korte, can we also eat here later? Of course, I already told my boy to cover here.

What are those beautiful plants, have you grown them all yourself?

That is, my gardener. Yes, they are beautiful, aren’t they? Have you ever seen such orchids before? And how do you find these chevelures?

Just wonderful, I didn’t know there was such a variety of orchids. You have 30 kinds, I believe.

Oh, yes, and more. That’s just a hobby of mine.

Boy! Bring beer and cigarettes. You can serve the noodles in half an hour.

Cheers Heeren!

Health, Mr. De Korte!

Oops, that tastes, said Huug, I was thirsty like a horse.

We will definitely go to the bangsawan together tonight, if you feel like it. I have also asked the gentlemen of Pinang-Riboe.

Of course we will all go there. I like a native opera like that. You laugh at you a monkey.

You haven’t seen anything like it, Mr. Reeder, it’s worth it.

What are they performing there? European pieces?

Oh, everything. Whatever you want. You’ll see tonight. A large bowl of Chinese noodles was placed on the table. The bright yellow food looked tempting. The kokki had topped the dish with omelette strips and parsley.

The outdoors had made us hungry. Where Hartman left the great portion was a mystery to me, it was a healthy, hefty eater. Come on, Hartman, Rensema encouraged, if you take that last half plate now, the bowl is empty.

Thank you, give it to Reeder, he still has to grow.

If we let the boy clear the place now, we will rest for an hour and then take a nice bath. To do? Excellent Mr De Korte, said Rensema; taking a cushion from the chair, he immediately lay down on the grass. I’ll stay here, that seems better than in the warm guest room.

If you like. And you, Mr Reeder, what do you want? The guest bed is available.

Just do like Rensema and Hartman, it’s here in the shade nice and cool.

An hour later I was awakened by a curse from Hartman.

Rensema had pushed a great beetle into his neck. Never mind, never mind Rens laughed, it’s a lucky bug.

Choke on your lucky torch, come on, get that filthy thing out, it tickles a lot… go on, take it out please… joker that you are.

The performance took place in the play shed. Hundreds of coolies were eagerly awaiting things to come. Our entry caused some commotion. Immediately, the aisle, where the women and children sat, cleared the way.

Oedin acted here as supreme master of ceremonies and led us to the waiting chairs, which were placed just in front of the scene.

The music, consisting of a drum, two violins, a flute and a guitar, started the overture. A wailing hangover in the month of March was compared to a purely tuned harp. The drum worked frantically to be heard in every corner of the room. The violinist had the right to look above everything and not to deprive him of this right. He was in charge of music and it was only he who, after about twenty bars, noticed that the flutist was playing from a completely wrong sheet. After the great lord and his staff were seated, the performance could begin.

Probably intended as a prologue, a furry-clad malay stepped out from between the paper wings and delivered a speech in High Malay, which, of course, was not understood by any of the Javanese opera visitors. But that was a side issue. His costume had a fascinating effect on the crowd. What a wonder. A green velvet short cloak draped gracefully over his shoulders. Tight shorts of red silk covered his spindle legs. A pair of white cotton stockings covered his calves. The feet were in a pair of brown put on shoes, at least a few numbers too big with noses shouting “hooray”.

An old rusty cavalry saber completed the knight’s costume. With a bow he asked Mr. De Korte what the company should perform. The repertoire was extensive. Faust?

Of course. That could very well.

Surprised, I asked Huug, who was sitting next to me, how they got all the necessary clothing, which was necessary for the various pieces.

Oh, you’ll see, just wait a minute.

The music started with full force and at the same time the artists appeared in the spotlight.

Never before had I seen such a collection of clothing. The men were mainly dressed in short faded jackets, all of velvet, in the most contradictory colors. They did not know themselves what they were proposing.

The female artists had dressed themselves up with worn-out European children’s dresses, decorated here and there with colorful ribbons, bows and tannins. The shapely legs were tucked into over-sized ladies’ stockings, which twisted and with pleats completing the toilet anything but elegant. They were probably all extras, for no one opened a mouth.

Everyone had made up to their own taste and artistic feeling. Thick red and black blobs had been applied to the lips and under the eyes. It was not a sight!

All around me I saw the glittering and admiring eyes of the coolies, and the children especially could not suppress an enthusiastic “lö, lö, ló,”.

Suddenly the group’s prima donna appeared. She deliberately took a long time to increase the effect and to highlight the inferiority of the extras. In an uncomfortable and shy attitude, they had been exposed to the natural scorn of the coolies for several minutes. Log and heavy entered the lead actress a few steps forward. Her mouth, too wide, tried to smile gently and enchantingly. She had stepped forward to make a révérence for the honored public with the elegance of a hippo.

Accompanied by the much too high-pitched music, she opened her mouth to all of us, and a dangerous scream rose from the mass of flesh.

The extras thought the time had come to assert themselves. They started to sing in different keys.

The music and choir vied for who could make the most noise. The prima donna won brilliantly.

I looked at Huug shortly and shouted in his ear if this meant the closing chorus.

Yes, they start here with the dessert and end with the soup. Fortunately, the scariest part was over. None of the players had been adversely affected.

Due to a slight difference of opinion about the sequence of the verses, the singing was suddenly cut off.

Now the actual game began. There was no question of any connection or connection. When the game threatened to falter, an improvised dance was soon performed.

Suddenly the players looked at each other and discussed out loud what to do next. Opinions were quite divergent, so that the director had to take action. He liked bold measures. Pushing and scolding he chased the choir behind the couhssen and then announced that Faust was interrupted and would be followed by “Genopipa”

Genopipa?

Well, they mean Genoveva, Rensema laughed.

The players performed again in the same costumes as before. All at the same time. Nobody wanted to stay behind.

Like wooden soldiers they stood next to and against each other.

A screeching scratch on the violin was the signal for the vocals had to start again.

A few bars had just started when Hartman tossed a handful of cigarettes onto the scene.

The seriousness was gone. The players attacked the favorite smoking materials as if they were gold pieces, it became a pushing and grabbing as on a Dutch St. Nicholas evening.

The laughter and booing of the coolies flared up. Hoeré, Hoeré, hantam Kromo, that was play. Did they understand anything about Genopipa? The director had also managed to get his share, and after every artist had set fire to a cigarette, the performance could continue again.

It started to look like it was going to be serious now. The drum pounded the beat and shrill voices filled the sultry-hot hall.

One verse followed another. All sang the same song this time. The arms moved regularly from the chest to an indefinite direction ahead.

It reminded me of the puppets of a barrel organ that used to disturb the peace in our street at set times.

Looking aside I saw Rensema open a roll of dimes.

Watch out, now you will experience something!

Rising halfway out of his chair, he threw the fifty pieces of silver between the singers with a swing.

A bomb in a chicken coop could not have caused greater consternation. Like devils the players attacked the money, on and over each other. You saw nothing but a chaos of arms and legs.

The screeching of the coolies now grew into a storm. The screaming laughter of the women and children drowned out the tumult.

The genoveva interpreters scrambled across the shelves like madmen, punching and pulling and plucking each other.

The hall was shattered. The fun was on top. The coolies were having a great time and that was the point.

With heavy clapping of hands and greetings from the native theater-goers, we left the building.

After the stuffy atmosphere in the congested space, the fresh outside air did us good.

Hey, hey, is that laughter, said Hartman, it gave me cramps.

Did you see that fat prima donna lying on her back like a cockchafer? She couldn’t move a bit among those others, I thought I was dying.

Well have you seen the native scene, Reeder, how do you like it?

Out of the ordinary! Oh, oh, what great fun those children had, it was worth studying to observe those faces. Oh, rest assured they enjoyed it, big and small. In that respect they are all children.

What do we do? Want to drink a beer at Rensema? Strange, said Hartman, that we always have to drink beers and that the natives celebrate all day long until late at night, without a drop of alcohol.

That is nothing strange, replied Rensema, they do like lemonade so much, why would they drink anything else? It’s just a matter of habit and why wouldn’t it be fun without a drink?

Of course Rens, it’s okay without booze, help me reveal that you will get lemonade later.

Hear them having fun, you can hear them scream here. Rest assured that the party is only now starting. They like that we show interest, but it shouldn’t take too long. When they are among each other, they come off in their own way. The presence of the tuan besar always hinders their exuberance somewhat.

There was not much to notice about that just a moment ago.

That is true, but you must not forget that we ourselves gave the impetus to that noise. That crazy Rens also with his dimes.

The moon shone brightly over the yard. Rensema’s house stood out sharply against the stiff sky. Beautiful, eh? It looks like a picture.

Shall we have the chairs brought out? It’s nice here.

Who wants a good cigar?

Oh, I also thought why you wanted to sit outside so badly? But bring on your poison stems.

Do you think, Mr De Korte, would we get bonuses this year?

It is not excluded. The rubber has made good prices and the tobacco… yeah we have to wait and see, huh? Have any of you heard from Boekhorst?

Yes, Hartman replied, he was rejected and fired with four months’ salary.

That’s bad. What should such a boy do in Europe now? His health has taken such a hit here that he will remain a wreck for good. Half neglected dysentery, ditto malaria and then not sparingly spanned, say nervous illness. Get started!

After fifteen minutes, Mr. De Korte got up.

Are you leaving already?

Yes, I have a few things to do. Enjoy yourself further. Good night gentlemen.

Good night, Mr De Korte, at home.

Hey Huug, did you just notice that he immediately started talking about something else when Rensema asked if we would get bonuses this year?

Of course I realized that. But it is also not fun for him to talk about it, with the knowledge that he will receive over forty thousand guilders this year and we, his assistants, not a cent!

Would we really get nothing, do you think?

Absolutely. Don’t count on anything and you’ll be the closest. The rubber has earned six tons and the tobacco lost a million and a half. Zero, zero comma, I keep a goat and we are the infantry.

Yes, but Huug, I asked, you just said that Mr De Korte will be paid forty grand and now you say again that we have lost. What’s up with that ?

Do you really not understand that, or do you just keep it that way?

No, really, I don’t get it.

Well, look here. You know the assistants get 10% of the company’s net profit, don’t you?

Yes, that profit is divided among us into so-called shares that each employee has according to his number of years of service.

Especially my son. Ten% of the net profit of society… if there is profit! As a rule, the tobacco consumes three or four times as much as the rubber earned. So society… Yes, I get it, society works at a loss and we can divide the 10% of “nothing” among ourselves.

Well calculated. We go on!

The administrators, however, enjoy a different bonus scheme, as follows: they receive 6% of the net proceeds of their company, you understand me, from their company, so they are completely out of touch with tobacco. Goenoeng Ampat will earn about six and three quarters of a ton this year, of which De Korte will receive around 40,000 guilders. Every year we receive the company’s profit and loss statement. A neatly arranged booklet in yellow cover. In recent years, for example, it included a clear overview of the rubber, which, thanks to the pre-sales on contract, had made a considerable profit. What follows is an endless series of numbers relating to tobacco. Although the tenders had been hopeful, several large batches of sandblade had been disposed of well below cost. The pre-harvest was very disappointing, the mid-harvest was not well fermented and the post-harvest was poor. The rains had not fallen in time, the leaves were thick and coarse. The losses of tobacco far exceeded the profit of rubber.

On the last page, the assistants are thanked with a few beautifully formulated sentences for the diligence and dedication with which they worked again this year … and this is the end of the story.

To make matters worse for us, there are not enough places available to give everyone a good chance of promotion to administrator and to earn decent money you have to get that first, right? Between two brackets, you understand that protection plays a very important role in this.

The public in Holland will soon see such an Indischen Nabob, such a rubber ring, settle in The Hague or in the Gooi. There it spreads a haze of wealth and opulence around it. His villa adorns in large letters, “Kaja Betoel” or “Soeka Nasip”.

Many remember that he went to the Indies as a poor boy… and now look!

Certainly, that white raven is clearly visible, it stands out. But those who do not stand out are those who have worked just as hard or harder yonder, but now just as poor as before and disillusioned, living at the expense of their family, or even worse, spending the rest of their lives in the kampung. There they learned to bear their fate and… to acquiesce in silence.

Fortunately, there are companies that offer a pension in return for the services rendered by their employees, but how many management boards are there that do not think about reserving something for their employees in the good years.

The superficially informed public in Europe does not know that there are people here who for 20 years and more sacrificed their best strength and often their health in the service of management, which, in return, dismissed those same people because of physical disability, without leaving any compensation whatsoever, allow to grant pension.

Fortunately, society and the collegiality of the planters is such that such a person is not immediately left to his own devices. For a long time, he found shelter and sandwiches with his old friends. Thus he moves from one to the other. They call it Nempangen.

He knows that it will be granted to him, he is welcome everywhere, but one day the time will come when he will start to feel that it cannot last forever. Then he goes back to his old housekeeper.