Stories from Deli

Sumatra’s East Coast (S.O.K.)

Like a large pleasure yacht, the luxurious passenger ship “Op ten Noort” lay less than a ten-minute walk from where the d’Artagnan had just departed. The white color of the boat, so well suited to the tropics, conveyed a feeling of coolness and Dutch cleanliness. Although the “Op ten Noort” is not a mail ship, it nevertheless measures over 6,000 tons, has an exceptionally spacious promenade deck, is furnished as comfortably as possible, and is equipped with all modern conveniences. At around 11 a.m., the anchor was weighed, and for a day I undertook the same voyage, but in the opposite direction, as I had made the last day with the French mail steamer.

We now kept closer to the Sumatran coast, so I could clearly see the densely wooded mountains and the green islands floating by. Before lunch, we were brought a deliciously cool sorbet made from soursop, sitting in the comfortable rattan chairs on deck. It tasted doubly good if you hadn’t had such a thing in years.

The journey to Deli passed too quickly. When we arrived early the next morning at Poeloe Berhalla (Island of Wealth), opposite Asahan, I thought back to the trips I had made to this island thirty years earlier. As architect of the Deli Company, I had to build quarantine barracks there. This was done at the time as a precaution against the plague from the country where the imported coolies came from. In one day, the Deli Planters Association decided to build 20 barracks, which would later be taken over by the government; a good example of their initiative. Equipped with the necessary building materials, Chinese craftsmen, Javanese coolies, and food, I set off a few days after this decision with three junks to this hilly island, which rises 180 meters out of the sea like a gigantic bouquet.

I vividly remember the large flocks of turtles that crawled onto the beach at high tide in the evening to dig a hole in which they laid their eggs, the size of a chicken’s egg but with a soft shell, numbering 100 to 150. They then filled the hole to allow the eggs to hatch in the warmth of the sand. Malays who occasionally came to our island from the opposite Padang-Bedagei marked these buried nests with a stick so they could later remove the eggs. The beasts are so large and strong—among them some with backs of 1.5 x 0.70 m.—that they could easily carry me as I walked, and I have often had such an unusual ride.

When I came to the island for the second time to make some repairs, we were visited one day by an English man-of-war, the Amphitrite—the crew of which took me for a castaway on this, in their opinion, uninhabited island. From the officer who had come ashore in the sloop to rescue me and take me back to civilization, I learned that the captain, Sir Charles Windham, was an ardent hunter. When I returned the visit, I invited him to go hunting kidangs (small deer) with me. The captain, who introduced me to the officers as “Robinson Crusoe, the king of the island,” gladly accepted that invitation. He then successfully hunted with some of his officers, and my coolies, who assisted him, each received a beautiful English knife as a gift. These were just a few memories that came to mind as we passed Poeloe Berhalla.

It was now just a few hours’ sail to Belawan, which has become an ocean port since 1929. We moored at the jetty where other large steamers were moored, including a mail boat that was about to depart for home. What a succession of the various trade and cultural activities…

Companies. Cars and buses waited outside the customs gate for the first passengers to be quickly transported along the 23-kilometer asphalt road to Medan, only to return for more freight.

The first section of the road to Laboean was only completed in 1915, allowing cars to compete with the Deli railway. I decided to travel to Medan the old-fashioned way using this railway (DSM), but we had to wait an hour, which I spent strolling along the jetty where, among other things, a few Australian submarines were moored.

Later, I learned that Belawan is already visited by half as many ships as the major ports of Java, which have a volume of around eight million cubic meters. Exports from Belawan amount to 175 million guilders, including 75 million guilders for tobacco. I was the only passenger, along with another European; the D.S.M. relies primarily on freight transport, which generates about three times as much revenue as passenger transport. What memories came flooding back.

I had already traveled the first part of the journey with my friend Sies van der Weide in 189;) when we were working for the Dell Cultuur M.ij. Mr. Haas, an employee of the Van Aie company, had given us an open note to the station master in Titipapan, requesting that he help us “Singkehs” (singers) onto carts to the Mabar company. I now visited that plantation and another “Saentis” (plantation where I had worked at the time) again from Medan, a city I found so changed. The station had been expanded enormously; the platform was even longer than when I left in 1911.

Outside the station, besides a queue of sados ​​(dos a dos), a similar queue of taxis waited for passengers. I learned that there are 6,000 cars at S.O.K. (Swedish: S.O.K.). The center of Medan—the esplanade—was about the only thing I recognized, as everything else had changed dramatically. The city now has several times more inhabitants than when I lived there twenty years ago and now has approximately 50,000 souls.

The large hotels in Medan are in no way inferior to the best European hotels. Take, for example, Hotel De Boer, where the interior decoration makes one feel like they’re in an excellent Dutch hotel, and where the impeccable Chinese service and accommodations are, in a word, perfect. I was very pleased with my room, which offered a magnificent view of the square. From here, I could clearly observe the enormous increase in traffic. In the evenings, I enjoyed the excellent concerts held at the hotel.

I especially noticed the stark difference between tempo doeloe and sekarang. Now that not only many administrators but also assistants are married, most of whom own cars and can therefore easily get to Medan, the hotel evenings were almost as lively as the Crand-Hotel Centraal and House of Lords in The Hague. In many ways, the ladies have contributed to raising the social scene at S.O.K. to a higher level. And one no longer sees any Hari Besar excesses or Wild West scenes on the public holidays of the 1st and 16th of each month.

What substantial buildings have been added to many streets; extra sidewalks outside the Kaki-limas and a traffic policeman ensure safe circulation in the busiest streets. The villa district in the Polonia neighborhood had expanded so much that I couldn’t find my way around anymore. In the mornings, but especially in the evenings under the bright moonlight, I often cycled around there in the cool air. But now those very beautiful houses, amidst large lawns, tropical plants, and trees, shone brightly. How enviable sometimes are the people who lounged in a dolce fare niente on the electrically lit front galleries sat, occasionally in light pajamas or kimonos, engrossed in reading under an equally colorful lampshade.

How disappointing many of them will find it upon their return to their homeland, when they have to spend most of the day in confined spaces and closed rooms, I kept thinking. This will be especially true if they end up in a small town that doesn’t offer half as much as Medan, with its cozy Witte Sociëteit (White Society), open to both men and women, where lectures, concerts, and theatrical performances take place; not to mention the many reading societies, libraries, the excellent educational institutions (including a H.B.S. five-year course), and schools for the children of the more than a thousand Europeans at the S.O.K.

However, I found the Chinese quarter no less interesting to visit on my evening wanderings. But considering that Medan, which has been the capital of the Sumatra East Coast Government (S.O.K.) is that 11 million.

If the city has a population of 30% Javanese and 10% Chinese, it is understandable that a large portion of these imported workers, after their work contracts expire, settle in a city like Medan with its many wajongs (benefits for disabled people), bangsawans (salary for disabled people), cinemas, teahouses, etc., and create a special atmosphere.

I found it amusing to see the Javanese crouched by the warong (warong) and the Chinese in their families, sitting with their knees raised on benches around dining tables, which were simply placed in the street in front of their houses, eating noodles or other delicacies with chopsticks.

At the head of this large colony of sons of the Celestial Empire, for the past seven years, Mr. Khoe Tjin Tek, a sympathetic man who enjoys the confidence not only of our government and his fellow countrymen, but also of many Europeans. As a good old friend, I visited him at his beautiful home, built in Chinese style, where I also had the honor of meeting his family. The major, accompanied by his son, who works at the American Consulate, paid me a return visit.

My bicycle rides along Medan’s well-paved roads extended to the former kampongs of Poeloe-Braien, Petissa, Soengei Krah, and so on; these now form the suburbs, where one also finds very neat housing for Europeans, built by the municipality and rented cheaply. I was amazed to hear so many natives and Chinese speaking Dutch, something only a few of them knew twenty years ago.

At Dutch-Malay and Dutch-Chinese schools, they learn our language. Ris- and Huttenbach funds support students who need financial assistance. I most vividly observed the busiest traffic today compared to that of twenty years ago at a closed railway crossing, where, as happens in European cities, a rapid buildup of people and vehicles formed, creating an endless queue when the road was clear again.

An army of buses circulates through the streets and at the market stalls in the mornings, searching for travelers at the various places whose names are loudly proclaimed. Thus, for just one guilder, one can now reach the Batak plateau in a few hours, a journey that 20 years ago was a kind of expedition, taking several days. No wonder one sees so many Karo-Batak girls shopping in Medan these days. Instead of slaves, as was the case 60 years ago, potatoes and vegetables worth a million guilders are now exported annually from the plateau. Batak raids on businesses, as they did 40 years ago, are no longer carried out by Bataks, and they no longer gamble away their wives and children as they once did. In the last 25 years, many have converted to Christianity through missionary work, and I was struck by the sheer number of simple churches of various denominations I saw, with the monumental mosque—a gift from the Deli Company—standing out favorably as a building. ƒ To be continued.)

EigenHaard vol. 57, 1931, no. 43, 24-10-1931

Part 2

Naturally, I visited the administration of the Deli Company, where I had worked for so many years, and to which I had received an introduction from the director, Mr. Herbert Cremer. The beautiful office building had been built by my successor, Mr. Colijn. I was invited, along with the inspector, to inspect some of the Belawan and Toentoengan plantations. When we arrived at the latter plantation, it was a difficult march through the highly uneven terrain. The fields, which would yield the renowned Delian wrapper, and for which such high prices are paid on the world market, were just being prepared for planting. The best quality tobacco grows on the lands located between the Wampoe River in the north and the Sungei-Oelar River in the south. They cover an area of ​​275,000 hectares. These are divided over 14 Mijen with 70 farms where some 100,000 coolies are employed, these enterprises yielded around 75 million guilders’ worth of tobacco a few years ago. In that same year, Java’s entire tobacco harvest yielded only 3/5 of that amount.

Once the harvest is reaped, the indigenous population plants jagoeng and paddy on fields that, before the arrival of the Europeans, were covered in primeval forest and yielded nothing at the time.

On the return trip, we visited some coolie houses, so-called single-family homes for Javanese. Everything looked very neat. After all, as a former Deliaan and architect, I can attest that I believe the Javanese, who value conviviality and safety, would prefer to live with others in a large pondok, as before.

As a skilled craftsman, I was most interested in the trade school on the Belawan estate, which we then visited. My kind guide had, I believe, given a great impetus to the maintenance of this institution. One can hardly imagine more patient and diligent students than the young Javanese. I admired the various objects they had made.

We now drove back through Padang-Boelan. In the time of the head administrator, Tiele, the man who introduced the tobacco leaf picking method and other improvements, this plantation was the model estate of the S.O.K. His magnificent house, in the middle of a once meticulously maintained park, now lay lonely and deserted.

I enjoyed walking around the Deli Mij. yard in Medan again, as I used to. The head administrator’s house, built by my predecessor over 30 years ago, is still one of the finest planter’s houses at the S.O.K. What lavish receptions and soirées were held there on the 10th of each month, especially when the Van Vollenhoven family held sway.

I was pleased to recognize houses I had built, including the pathology laboratory, which has now been greatly enlarged. It was founded during the reign of Dr. Schüffner and Dr. Kiihne, who are now professors at the universities of Amsterdam and Leiden, respectively. Thousands of bacteriological examinations are conducted annually in this laboratory, with an even greater number of Wasserman reactions (10,000), while smallpox is administered to half a million people. Cholera, plague, smallpox, and other epidemics are almost nonexistent at the S.O.K. or are very limited. Mortality has also fallen to a quarter of what it used to be.

Renovations were taking place at the Dell Mij hospital during my visit. with its many barracks for various diseases. Approximately 50 such hospitals can be found throughout the region, where 15,000 patients are treated by 60 doctors. I now arrived at the office buildings of the Deli Planters Association (D.P.V.), where I received a lot of information about the Deli, which was entirely new to me.

With the secretary of this association, I examined with particular attention the portraits of the former chief administrators Nieuhuis, Cremer, van den Honert, Kolff, Ingerman, Van Vollenhoven, Stechter, and Van Tijen hanging on the wall in the large meeting room.

We then went to the fingerprint office, which was established not only by the D.P.V. but also by the General Association of Rubber Planters on the East Coast of Sumatra (AVROS) for the identification of coolies.

We then took a very quick look at the emigrant asylum, familiar to me from earlier, where weak or infirm coolies are cared for and engaged in some kind of manual labor, for which they receive a small payment to buy refreshments. Furthermore, the tobacco companies provide for the workers who have completed 25 years of service through a pension fund, receiving ƒ 7.50 per month, an amount that corresponds to approximately half their monthly wage, enabling them to live carefree; between 5,000 and 6,000 coolies already enjoy such support.

Outside the Deli Mij. yard, I came across several other houses I had built, including the town hall, originally intended as the Java Bank during the monetary reform. There was also the hospital of the Nursing Association, which I had designed, but has now been significantly expanded. The swimming pool in Medan, where the clear spring water of the Ajer-Bersih Mij., which flows from the mountains, always wells up in gentle abundance, is always frequented by bathers and onlookers. For me, however, who has been accustomed for years to sunbathing on the sunny snowfields near St. Moritz, the water temperature was a bit too high. Nevertheless, I enjoyed watching the diving and swimming bathers, among whom were some charming water nymphs, with the pool director, Mr. Koolemans Beijnen, and other old and new acquaintances I met there.

I made several enjoyable excursions from Medan to Brastagie on the Batak Plateau and to Tankingeun and Lake Laut-Tawar in the Gayuland (Aceh). The manager of General Motor Cars had provided me with a car. I had made this trip with him many times during the construction of the first villa in Brastagie for the then chief administrator of the DeliMij. The excellent highway we were now using was under construction at the time—about 25 years ago. The aforementioned villa was the first house built at Brastagie, which I did at the behest of Mr. Joost van Vollenhoven. You can imagine my surprise when I saw Brastagie again as a thriving recreational resort, where, situated 1,400 meters above sea level, most of the cultivated and other Mijen, as well as many private individuals, own bungalows, which their employees may use for pleasure or health reasons.

The current head administrator of the Deli Mij. was very kind to make the oldest villa in Brastagie, which I recognized so well and which is now owned by the Deli Mij., available to me for a week. But then, past tobacco fields under cultivation and tobacco barns, I hurried towards the mountains. The Arnhemia plantation—from where I often used to continue my journey on horseback—was soon reached. At Sibolangit, a few hundred meters above sea level, where previously only a missionary lived and a few poor houses were found, there was now a botanical garden.

In Bandar-Bahroe, where I had so often stayed with Baron Reede van Oudshoorn, administrator of the Bandar-Bahroe coffee company, or in the bungalow of the Amsterdam Deli Company, I now drove through tea gardens instead of coffee plantations.

Twenty years ago, tea cultivation did not yet exist in S.O.K. Proof that Deli planters are not so easily discouraged is that, after repeated failures, including at the Rimboen company, Ris finally succeeded in planting tea in S.O.K. Similarly, I later saw several tea companies in the vicinity of Penatang-Siantar, where I believe there were about twenty with a joint area of ​​approximately 18,000 hectares was established.

From Bandar Bahroe (840 meters), an interesting section now began, namely along a road carved into the rocks in many places. How well it reminded me of the trip I made in this area 25 years ago with the late J. T. Cremer, former director of the Deli Company, Mrs. Cremer, and Miss Hogan from Pinang. Bataks had to pull the car through the mud at the time, as the road was not yet paved and ready. To prevent the car from slipping backward, Mr. Cremer repeatedly placed large stones against the rear wheels, while Mr. K. Koek drove and I…

He encouraged the Bataks to vigorously push and pull with words, not to mention Mexican dollars. However, we had to spend the night in Bandar-Bahroe, where the two ladies had stayed behind. With enormous difficulty, we finally reached Brastagie the next day. This was the first car to appear on the Batak plateau.

My bicycle had already attracted considerable attention there, but then Bataks came from far and wide to witness this karetta setan, which, in their opinion, was propelled by spirits (devils). The Cremer family later continued their journey to Lake Toba. This memorable car journey was written down by Mr. Cremer himself and appeared in the April 20, 1907, issue of “Eigen Haard,” and it is a pleasure for me to recount this memory in the columns of that same magazine.

I heard that on the way to Lake Toba, a national dance was performed as a festive reception for the Cremer family in a Batak kampong. One of the women who participated was missing her heavy lyre-shaped earring, forged from old Portuguese coins, a family heirloom to which this people are deeply attached. She had sold it to use the proceeds to give her mother a proper burial. The Cremer family quietly inquired about the buyer and returned the earring to their daughter, who, as a token of gratitude, requested that she henceforth consider Mr. and Mrs. Cremer her father and mother.

During the Cremer family’s visit to the Indies, their beautiful estate, Huize Duin en Kruidberg near Bloemendaal, was being built. Later, when I took advantage of a kind invitation to visit Mr. Cremer there during a leave of absence, I was shown the beautiful sculpture that immortalized that journey.

One of the first excursions I made in Brastagie was to Sibajak (2200 m), a still-active volcano near which lies a sulfur lake. Sulphurous fumes hissed from the earth’s crust. Another day, I took a trip with some guests from the Lith guesthouse to the Petanie waterfall. A no less beautiful excursion was the one with the Keban Djahe inspector to Piso Piso, whose summit offers a magnificent panorama of Lake Toba and the entire plateau, extending to the Van Heutz and Wilhelmina Mountains.

From Keban Djahe—like Brastagie, a thriving seaside resort, but situated somewhat lower and more sheltered—I stayed in one of the bungalows of the well-known former deli planter, Mr. Jozef Glas. I visited one of the nearby Batak kampongs, most of which are situated in forests. The houses of the chiefs and wealthy were made of wood, decorated with carvings and black, red, or white patterns. The roof was saddle-shaped, the ends adorned with buffalo horns. All this gave these houses a beautiful and characteristic character. At night, the interior space is divided by mats—which are lowered—as the house is usually occupied by several families. Smoke from the fireplaces easily escapes through the roof or through the small windows and doors. One can therefore imagine that it is stuffy in such houses.

The Bataks usually dress with an indigo-blue-dyed cloth, which is elegantly wrapped around the waist and hangs down to the feet. Women and girls wear the aforementioned silver earrings; their weight is such that they must be largely held up by the headscarf. The population consists primarily of rice cultivation and livestock farming, especially horse breeding. I often visited a horse market on the plateau and tried to ride one of the fiery creatures bareback. They would cleverly make a bridle and reins for me from rope. These horses are used for carriages not only on Sumatra’s East Coast (S.O.K.), but also in Pinang and Singapore. The total number of Bataks in S.O.K. is over 300,000. (To be continued).

EigenHaard No. 44, 31-10-1931

Part 3

I once had a delicious dinner at the Grand Hotel Brastagie after a tiring journey and felt as if I were at the Grand Hotel in St. Moritz. It was, in fact, most comfortably furnished: I found ladies and gentlemen there in evening dress and tuxedos. I learned that it is frequented not only by the Europeans staying at the SOK, but also by others from across the Straits.

One afternoon, I took a look at the planter’s school and boarding school, a foundation of the DPV, where the children of the 10,000 Europeans attending the SOK can receive primary education. It is a magnificent institution, under excellent management. Here in the cool Batak mountains, it is possible for the children to learn as easily as in their homeland.

After a week of such a most pleasant time on the plateau, through which I, newly arrived from Europe, had now gradually adapted to the tropical climate, I returned to Medan on one of the luxurious DSM buses, which operate a daily service to the plateau exclusively for first-class passengers. Considering that these buses, which depart from Medan station for just ƒ 6, cover 70 kilometers across challenging mountainous terrain, the journey can hardly be called expensive. No wonder many Medan residents spend a weekend there, for which the D.S.M. offers special fares. In the softly sprung carriage, I felt as if I were gliding down a summer day in a Rhaetian Railway car from St. Moritz to the plains.

I spent a very short time in Medan to prepare for the journey to the Gayulands. To do so, I first departed by D.S.M. for Pankalan-Brandan. With the latest extension to Kiseran (273 kilometers), the railway network has expanded so much that it now covers over 500 kilometers, and one can now travel from Pankalan-Brandan to Kiseran in one day, instead of the three days it used to take. After crossing the mighty Wampoe River, the journey took me past extensive rubber plantations. Rubber cultivation is spread across 200 companies affiliated with the A.V.R.O.S. (Dutch Association of Petroleum Companies). I had an introduction from one of the directors of the Batavian Petroleum Company (B.P.M.) and was thus able to see much of the interesting industry at Pankalan-Brandan and Pankalan-Soesoe.

As is known, this industry began twenty years after tobacco cultivation began at the S.O.K. (1863), with exploratory drilling. This industry developed to such an extent that a few years ago, Pankalan-Brandan and Aceh produced 5% of the petroleum exports of the entire Dutch East Indies, representing an export value of 22 million guilders. The spacious houses of the BPM employees, built high on stone pillars, with their widely projecting roofs providing shelter from sun and rain, suited me much better than the impractical and warm European villas often used in the Indies these days. The change from healthy, fresh white clothing to colored ones and palm beach clothes doesn’t seem like much of an improvement to me either. I stayed in Pankalan-Brandan in the BPM’s passangrahan (P. gr.), took a stroll through the town in the evening, and admired the spacious pondoken (pondok) of the workers and the hospital set aside for them.

The next morning, I continued my journey first by D.S. and then by Atjeh tram, after which I would continue my journey in General Motors Cy cars. When I left the tram, I first had a rice table at the station. The chef came over to chat with me very cordially during dessert and asked if I was ready, as the tram had already been waiting for me for fifteen minutes. They didn’t know I would be continuing my journey by car. I then passed through Langsa, Lho-Seumawé, and spent the night in Bireuen in the Gouvernement P. gr. The journey the next morning was unforgivably beautiful through the wild mountains to Takingeun, a distance of 100 km.

In contrast to the almost entirely barren Batak plateau, here vast primeval forests clung to the slopes and mountains, teeming with large game such as tigers, panthers, elephants, rhinoceroses, pigs, and deer; a veritable dorado for brave hunters. For fear of tigers, the coolies only dare to go to work on the plantations in shifts. The fact that so many businesses are being established in these regions on the fertile volcanic soil is the strongest proof that I was in a peaceful and safe area of ​​Aceh, where murders of Europeans are a thing of the past. As I understand it, tourists are in no danger at all.

Only during the Poeaza and Mauloed periods, when Muslims are in a very irritable mood, should issues with them be avoided as much as possible. Halfway to Blang Rakal, we had a fifteen-minute delay to refuel. There I saw a newly captured tiger. The poor animal, which refused to leave the trap and enter the cage, had been forced to do so with red-hot irons, causing a severe burn. Later, I learned from Mr. A. de Gruyter, who has a large collection of wild animals for sale in Soengei Sidapang, that with the light of an electric lamp, the tiger could very easily have been forced into the cage behind the trap.

I was also shown a thick plank of a trap from which another tiger had bitten a hole to escape. It was around noon when I arrived at Takingeun (1200 meters), where there are three P. gr. (a small penny) of land, while full board is available for 3 to 4 guilders. The table was provided daily with fresh vegetables and potatoes, grown locally, and fresh meat, while there was also room for rice dishes, which I always preferred in the Indies. Since the so-called “veldzicht” house was already occupied by a family with children, and the other P. Gr. house, “Laut Tawar,” was being prepared for a high-ranking visit, I temporarily deposited my luggage in the third, where a family of inspectors from Kota Radja was staying.

After lunch, I paid my respects to the Assistant Resident (AR) to request permission from the P. Gr., as head of the local government. I was pleasantly surprised to recognize an old acquaintance in the AR, whom I had met during his leave in The Hague. I spent pleasant hours in his hospitable home, and naturally, there was much chatter about the Hague area with all its amusements, the Rotterdam City Theatre, Restaurant Anjema, etc. During a delicious “rijsttafel” (rice table) with the family, I had the pleasure of meeting the former captain of the military police, Mr. P. W. F. Kaniess, alias the father of the Gajoes, who lived in the Gajoe region for many years and published extensively about it.

Had I arrived in Takingeun a day earlier, I could have joined the military commander and the medical officer, who were making a three-day horseback ride with a patrol towards Blang-Kedjeran. Now the A.R. had the great kindness to show me the completed section of the new highway in his car. Once this is completed, instead of horseback riding, one can travel by car to Kota Dah, Pang Mog, Lomak, Blang-Kedjeran—where kampongs are everywhere for overnight stays—to reach Kota Tjané.

From here, a 140-kilometer-long road leads over, in parts, 2,000-meter-high and cool mountain ridges and through the Alas Valley, known for Van Dalen’s journey in 1904-06 and Darling’s, alias Toewan Matjan’s, heroic deeds, to the aforementioned Keban Djahé. Another pleasant car trip with the AR led through a beautiful region with many pine forests, after which we returned past coffee plantations owned by the locals and others by former resident Veenhuizen and Sons, as well as leasehold plots belonging to the former Deli planter, Mr. C. Slotemaker.

I found the visit with the A.R. to the resin and turpentine company, part of the Baleg government rubber company (located approximately 30 kilometers from Takingeun), extremely interesting. The site was situated in the heart of the cleared wilderness, very romantic. After 6 p.m., due to the danger of tigers, one cannot venture outside the site without a heavily armed escort. What an adventurous life for the manager and his young, friendly German wife, who invited us to a generous drink with true German hospitality.

The controller’s family, with whom I was in the P.G.R., also treated me to a car trip in the beautiful surroundings. Had the engine of the government steam launch “Juliana” not broken down, I would have taken a lovely boat trip with them on the beautiful mountain lake Laut Tawar to through the wild mountains to Takingeun, a distance of 100 km. In contrast to the almost entirely barren Batak plateau, here vast primeval forests clung to the slopes and mountains, teeming with large game such as tigers, panthers, elephants, rhinoceroses, pigs, and deer; a veritable dorado for brave hunters. For fear of tigers, the coolies only dare to go to work on the plantations in shifts.

The fact that so many businesses are being established in these regions on the fertile volcanic soil is the strongest proof that I was in a peaceful and safe area of ​​Aceh, where murders of Europeans are a thing of the past. As I understand it, tourists are in no danger at all. Only during the Poeaza and Mauloed periods, when Muslims are in a very irritable mood, should issues with them be avoided as much as possible. Halfway to Blang Rakal, we had a fifteen-minute delay to refuel. There I saw a newly captured tiger. The poor animal, which refused to leave the trap and enter the cage, had been forced to do so with red-hot irons, causing a severe burn.

Later, I learned from Mr. A. de Gruyter, who has a large collection of wild animals for sale in Soengei Sidapang, that with the light of an electric lamp, the tiger could very easily have been forced into the cage behind the trap. I was also shown a thick plank of a trap from which another tiger had bitten a hole to escape. It was around noon when I arrived at Takingeun (1200 meters), where there are three P. gr. (a small penny) of land, while full board is available for 3 to 4 guilders. The table was provided daily with fresh vegetables and potatoes, grown locally, and fresh meat, while there was also room for rice dishes, which I always preferred in the Indies. Since the so-called “veldzicht” house was already occupied by a family with children, and the other P. Gr. house, “Laut Tawar,” was being prepared for a high-ranking visit, I temporarily deposited my luggage in the third, where a family of inspectors from Kota Radja was staying.

After lunch, I paid my respects to the Assistant Resident (AR) to request permission from the P. Gr., as head of the local government. I was pleasantly surprised to recognize an old acquaintance in the AR, whom I had met during his leave in The Hague. I spent pleasant hours in his hospitable home, and naturally, there was much chatter about the Hague area with all its amusements, the Rotterdam City Theatre, Restaurant Anjema, etc. During a delicious “rijsttafel” (rice table) with the family, I had the pleasure of meeting the former captain of the military police, Mr. P. W. F. Kaniess, alias the father of the Gajoes, who lived in the Gajoe region for many years and published extensively about it. Had I arrived in Takingeun a day earlier, I could have joined the military commander and the medical officer, who were making a three-day horseback ride with a patrol towards Blang-Kedjeran. Now the A.R. had the great kindness to show me the completed section of the new highway in his car. Once this is completed, instead of horseback riding, one can travel by car to Kota Dah, Pang Mog, Lomak, Blang-Kedjeran—where kampongs are everywhere for overnight stays—to reach Kota Tjané. From here, a 140-kilometer-long road leads over, in parts, 2,000-meter-high and cool mountain ridges and through the Alas Valley, known for Van Dalen’s journey in 1904-06 and Darling’s, alias Toewan Matjan’s, heroic deeds, to the aforementioned Keban Djahé.

Another pleasant car trip with the AR led through a beautiful region with many pine forests, after which we returned past coffee plantations owned by the locals and others by former resident Veenhuizen and Sons, as well as leasehold plots belonging to the former Deli planter, Mr. C. Slotemaker. I found the visit with the A.R. to the resin and turpentine company, part of the Baleg government rubber company (located approximately 30 kilometers from Takingeun), extremely interesting. The site was situated in the heart of the cleared wilderness, very romantic. After 6 p.m., due to the danger of tigers, one cannot venture outside the site without a heavily armed escort. What an adventurous life for the manager and his young, friendly German wife, who invited us to a generous drink with true German hospitality. The controller’s family, with whom I was in the P.G.R., also treated me to a car trip in the beautiful surroundings. Had the engine of the government steam launch “Juliana” not broken down, I would have taken a lovely boat trip with them on the beautiful mountain lake Laut Tawar to…

EigenHaard no. 45, 07-11-1931

part 4

In the morning twilight I left Medan by express train. In the comfortable D.S.M. wagons, whose gentle rocking still invited a nap, were several planters who had spent a few happy days in Medan. Their cheerful mood was infectious and dispelled any drowsiness; there was also much to see.

After we had passed through the various kampongs, which actually form the suburbs of Medan, a magnificent panorama of the majestic Batak Mountains unfolded to the right, their peaks clearly visible against the blue sky. In the early morning, they were not yet obscured by clouds. This stunning mountain landscape made me feel like I was traveling on the Federal Railways somewhere in Italian Switzerland.

Soon, a native servant came to ask who wanted breakfast. The large open compartment windows, through which the delightful morning breeze flowed, allowed me to refresh myself. The first part of the journey passed endless fields being prepared for the planting of “bibit” (young tobacco). After Tebing-Tinggi, we drove past the lovely vegetation of rubber fields, a cultivation practiced on a large scale here south of Sungel Oelar. I had known this area when it was exclusively used for coffee, which has had to make way for the more profitable rubber industry in the last twenty years. Nowadays, there are hardly any coffee farms on the S.O.K. On the further journey, we climbed the undulating hills and, as we approached Pamatang-Siantar, found ourselves in the heart of tea cultivation, which, along with oil palm cultivation, is one of the youngest in the S.O.K., and in which, respectively, 30 and 50 million euros in capital have been invested, half of which is Dutch.

In Siantar, where I stayed after lunch, I already found it considerably cooler. I had been there once 25 years ago; previously, there were only a few Kedehs; now it was a prosperous place with a club, a swimming pool, several banks, and a large shopping street. From the “Tourist Traffic” association in Medan, which had already informed me about other trips, I had learned that buses of the State Railway’s Automobile Services (A.D. S.S.) depart from Pamatang-Siantar, connecting with the Deli line across Sumatra to Padang, a distance of 826 kilometers. First-class fare: ƒ 24 (Medan-Siantar first-class rail fare: ƒ 7.80).

From Prapat, where I traveled by GMC, I took advantage of this opportunity to Fort de Koek. After enjoying a mocha in the hall, I set off, first passing tea gardens, hills, and mountains—covered with wild tropical vegetation. The powerful engine carried me up the gradually ascending road, which in some places was carved into the rock face, or where holes revealed that this had been done with dynamite. It grew cooler and cooler until, after an hour’s drive, we reached the pass at 1400 meters.

Describing the panorama I then beheld… no, I cannot. It was as magically beautiful as Lake Lucerne. Five hundred meters below me lay the magnificent blue Lake Toba with the island of Samosir, which fills a large part of it. It was surrounded by steep banks, which in some places rose as if perpendicularly from the water. To the northeast lay the collapsed volcanoes of Sinabung and Sibajak, their peaks towering 2400 meters and 2200 meters respectively. To the south lay Tapanoeli, a region still completely unknown to me, through which my route led to the west coast.

The Batak tribe, who live around the lake and on Samosir, the so-called Toba Bataks, are much more powerful than the Karo Bataks of the plateau where the aforementioned Brastagie is located. I vividly remember the extension of the Pandenlingen

I had witnessed the event that replaced slavery half a century ago (that too has since been abolished). Of all the places on Lake Toba, the Batak chiefs had gathered at Harang-Goal in their large canoes, rowed by forty men.

The Deli Company had made a few cars available for government commissioners and administrative authorities. I took part in this interesting trip in one of the cars. The discussions proceeded smoothly, and afterward it was a fascinating spectacle to see the canoes returning home. At the head of each boat was a Batak man tandaking. If there was no wind for sailing, they thought they could hail him this way.

But to resume my story: further down, I was shown Prapat, the S.O.K. concern, with beautiful, leafy roads, villas (P. gr.), and a hotel with a large terrace. All these buildings were situated amidst well-maintained gardens. We slowly descended again, the bends and zigzags being taken as wide as possible by the native driver. One feels awe here for our B.O.W. engineers, who determined the route and masterfully avoided steep slopes and dangerous bends. Time and again, at the most unexpected moments, we were presented with a magnificent view of Lake Toba, whose shore we reached after half an hour, and we drove onto the headland where Prapat lies.

There, as in Brastagie, I stayed in a villa belonging to the Deli Company, where I met one of the doctors and his wife. Both were passionate mountaineers and skiers and familiar with some of the European winter sports resorts I used to frequent; so we chatted quite a bit about mountains and mountaineering. Time flew by in the tastefully furnished house, and taking walks in the beautiful surroundings, including climbing one of the nearby hills to enjoy the view. After this trip, I took a dip in the lake at Prapat, which had some changing rooms on the shore, and a diving platform provided diving opportunities. I learned that you can also row and sail there, and take motorboat trips on the lake.

After a very pleasant stay of a few days in this S.O.K. seaside resort, which, due to its sheltered location, has a much milder climate than Brastagie, I left for Sumatra’s west coast (S.W.K.) on one of the A.D.S.S. buses. I left Sumatra’s east coast with its countless treasures and fertile soil; a country with only one-fifth the population of the Netherlands, yet three times its size. Tapanoeli. I crossed the border of this residence just outside Prapat. The landscape we now passed offered ever-changing, surprising vistas; the highway was in excellent condition.

About 30 kilometers from Prapat, we arrived at the Asahan River, through which the waters of Lake Toba are drained to the sea. I regretted not having interrupted the journey for a single day to follow its banks 15 kilometers downstream and admire the Wilhelmina Falls, reputedly the largest waterfall in the Dutch East Indies. In the nearby town of Porden, there was a market; I bought some fruit there, after which we continued on to Baligé, which is located on the southern shore of Lake Toba, 60 kilometers from Prapat, a distance roughly one-fifth of the lake’s circumference. If there were also a highway on the west side, one could make a magnificent tour around the lake. It was just lunchtime when I arrived in Baligé, where, unaware that a hotel existed there, I wanted to check into the P. gr. As is well known, these accommodations are primarily intended for civil servants on business trips.

An assistant resident (A.R.) who was there told me about the Toba Hotel, where I was then moving. Imagine my surprise to recognize the manager, Mr. J. Schouten, a former colleague of the Deli Cultuur Mij., with whom I had lived at the Saentis plant 35 years ago. I learned that His Eminence On June 21, 1928, he celebrated his seventieth birthday at the hotel, attended by officials, friends, and locals. His faithful companion, whom I had also known, had unfortunately passed away six months earlier. In this wonderful climate, Mr. Schouten might well have reached his hundredth birthday. “The Old Man,” as I heard and personally experienced, is doing excellently in every respect. The hotel is situated high on the south side of Lake Toba, offering a magnificent view, especially at sunset, when the shores and mountains are illuminated so beautifully. It was a warm reunion, and we talked a lot about tempo doeloe! The rest of the journey was…

The next morning we set off for Sibolga, 115 kilometers away. I found it strange to see the Batak churches, like Roman Catholic churches, crowned with a cross. I later learned that this is customary for Lutheran churches of the Rhine mission. After a fifty-kilometer trek, we arrived near Taroentoeng, passing warm sulfur springs.
EigenHaard  no. 46, 14-11-1931