Stories from Deli

Pine tree. Do you know that it has cost society over a ton to get the lalang out of there? De Ruiter had let the lalang scrape away a little in a tobacco way, with the result that after a year, the kebon looked like a wilderness.

The sound of a hand harmonica was very thin from the dining room. Morain’s Javanese housekeeper, who was visiting Toeki-san, had musical tendencies and thought she should let us enjoy them. Morain, who had taken little part in the conversation, seemed to be awakened from his lethargy by the melancholic melody which Moesina drew from the instrument.

Please, Morain, said Arie de Graaf, sing along, you know those songs so damn well.

With a high-pitched sound, just as I had heard from the Japanese boys on board, Morain began:

Koetjing keroes mandi di papan, papanja lagi, si kajoe djati.

Saja keroes tida koerang makan, keroes menoedji didalam hati.

Moesina played the monotonous interplay, slow and drawn out:

Nonni manis rambut keriting.

Negeri saja banjak djahu.

Ikan bawal dan kepiting,

Tinggal mana, tida tahoe.

Well done, go on, said Rensema. I like to hear those panties.

Oekir oekir tanah Batawi.

Pinang Moeda di Belah Duwa.

Pikir pikir didalem hati,

Bantal satoe, kapala doewa.

Morain wanted to lie with two heads on one pillow, you are not that crazy!

Keep your snout, let it sing on.

Saja buchan malas kebogor.

Pajoeng djepoen diroemah tjina.

Saja buchan malas berdjoempa, tetapi ada takot jang poenja.

Siapoehhhhhü!

Koos didn’t feel much for those Malay songs. They were too soft for him.

Huug, would rather have Toeki-san bring some katjang, then the other young lady might stop whining. Hey people, surely you will all come to Boekhorst’s sales, right?

Of course, I think that’s Saturday, isn’t it?

Yes, at seven.

Nice opportunity to set up a little better, Reeder, that’s necessary.

Yes, I would like to buy something.

Don’t you have a barang yet, Rensema asked. Did you not buy any furniture in Medan when you arrived?

Well, answered Koos for me, I went out with him, but those singkehs are so damn stubborn. He insisted on having a watering can, well, he had his way. He also has a gramophone, oh yes, between two brackets, how does that thing play, aren’t you happy about it?

No no Koos, called Karei, don’t talk about it, you are a beautiful boy. Instead of making purchases, they went to party with Giesen.

I hear it already, said Rensema, from now on we can no longer entrust young people to you, Koos, you are leading them on the wrong path.

Why is there a vendution, I asked, is this gentleman going on leave? That is to say, on sick leave, he spent two consecutive years at Sarang-Lang, that is a corner where your department is still sacred. He has been seriously ill a few times and now the doctor thinks he is overworked. If you ask me, you better call it nervous.

Was Mr. Boekhorst already a nervous person when he came out or did he become one here?

Definitely made in the last year, it is utter wretch at the moment. He gets those attacks that make him tremble all over his body. Then the sweat breaks out on all sides, I have experienced it once, but it made me very sick. Fear, persecution madness, hallucinations, I don’t know what he’s got, but he really has to go.

What is society doing for him now?

For the time being he will get four months of sick leave with full salary and then he will have to be examined. If it is rejected, it is immediately out.

Retired ?

Can you understand.

How do you feel about it? Shouldn’t we even leave? Are you crazy, said Huug, it is only 1 o’clock. What do you have to do at home all evening?

No come on guys, otherwise we’ll still be here tomorrow morning. Cart after cart left the yard.

Well, let’s have a quiet drink now, Reeder, I’ll have the car appear soon.

How little that Morain says on such an evening; he didn’t open his mouth after singing.

Oh, we are used to that from him, he is a strange boy. He told me that he studied in France, is that so?

Yes, it is. He is not stupid but too bad for everything. He knows how to get rid of everything with a handy maneuver and let his colleagues pay for it. We’ve had enough noise about it already.

I didn’t think it necessary to tell the case of that map and the books, otherwise it was exactly what Huug said about him.

What about that Boekhorst in fact? Does such a person, who has become ill as a result of working in such a miserable environment, really get no pension now? He just become like that put on the street?

Oh, you don’t have to doubt that, that has happened before.

Why, then, does society not provide some sort of reserve fund, from which they can pay a small pension, even if only in such cases? Surely enough is being earned?

I think lack of a sense of responsibility. The money is spent on crazy expensive boss houses, for example. Mr. Seggeli’s house only costs more than one hundred and forty thousand guilders and what is that good for? The head boss would feel much happier in a house of say 25 grand than in such a palace. But no, it must be an excessively large and expensive building to be scented with on the front page of the company’s prospectus. Furthermore, one society does not want to be inferior to another. A builds a one-ton house for his head boss, wait says B, I’ll build one and a half tons. It has become a complete competition… and that costs capital.

Furthermore, you just heard what Karei said about bossing a tobacco on a rubber coupon. Our society has experienced several times how much money that costs. But did you think they learned anything from it? No, man, they continue with those stupid things just as happily.

There is no sou in the greenhouse for a poor lightning like Boekhorst, his family will soon receive it as a present. I’d rather stop talking about it, I’ll just piss me off and it doesn’t help anyway. But anyway, if society falls short in its moral duty, we will assist our colleague. Did the boss visit you this week?

I gave Huug a faithful account of what happened. How De Korte had first ridden me terribly on the bar and later explained his point of view in a fatherly manner.

So you see, said Huug, he is not the bad guy. You have to do your job, nothing escapes him. If your affairs are not in order, you will be told the chips wipe off. But he is fair like gold and you can learn a lot from it.

I like to believe that, I’ll do my best to keep the work moving, but it’s so difficult sometimes. For example, he was furious that I had left five coolies wrong. Can I help those guys get sick or their wives having babies?

Oh man, that will all change over time. We older people have much less trouble with this. You must ensure that you gain dominance over your people as soon as possible. Talk to your coolies as little as possible, do everything with your mandates, and never fumble about things that have nothing to do with work. Be short, without snapping directly. Do nothing without being convinced that it is fair and just, the javaan is very sensitive to this. You will see that in the long run you will gain so much prestige that your dealings with the people will become free and casual, without anyone taking it into their heads to take advantage of your generosity.

Another split?

Wouldn’t I rather leave, it’s getting late.

Boy, tell Amat he’s making an effort, but bring two whiskey sodas first.

Cigarette? Or rather a cigar?

Oh, yes, Huug, my thanks for the suit you brought with you recently, I was happy with it.

No thanks. I put some fruit and a piece of venison in the cart. Toeki-san fried it, otherwise your boy will screw it up anyway.

There is the wagon. Take it easy. That tuber is like a raging Roland, especially at night. Keep it really short.

Well Huug, thank you for the pleasant evening and for all other things.

Schwamm d’rüber, when are you coming to get your monkey?

Next week, Mioen is already making a cage.

Salute then. I’ll come and see you again. Stay strong