Footsteps Read Free Page A

this is the capital of the Indies, built by Governor-General Jan Pieterz Coen at the cost of sixty thousand Native lives. Who was it who worked out that figure? This is the city that was attacked and laid siege to by
Sultan Agung
in 1629. My Dutch school friends used to taunt me during our history lessons. How many soldiers did Sultan Agung have? Two hundred thousand? How many Company soldiers defended the city? Five hundred! The Dutch had cannon. But so did Agung! How come your sultan’s army was beaten, then? Yes, there’s no doubt about it. They were defeated. That’s the reality. The Dutch have controlled everything since then. Even now! Even though Coen himself died during the defense of the city and was never to see his homeland again.
    Two hundred thousand soldiers, my friends had said. With cannon too. I believe Agung had cannon. But two hundred thousand men! Who can disprove it? But neither could they produce real evidence to back their claim. Ahh, that’s enough of thinking like this, or I’ll die of frustration!
    Betawi was not as busy as Surabaya. And so clean. Big wooden rubbish bins stood in appropriate places, and the peopleplaced their garbage there. Not like Surabaya. And there were little parks everywhere, their brightly colored flowers adding a touch of festivity.
    In Surabaya all you ever saw were bamboo-hut slums and fires, and rubbish everywhere.
    1901. The paper I’d bought at the harbor announced that
Priangan
women were being sold to Singapore and Hong Kong and Bangkok. I was reminded of the past—of the Japanese prostitute Maiko’s evidence to the court in Surabaya about how much prostitutes were bought and sold for. I put away those memories. What purpose is there in dwelling on the past? The past should not become a burden if it is not also willing to be a help.
    There was one interesting editorial comment—the Malay-Chinese press was refusing to use Ch. Van Ophuyzen’s new Malay spelling. We don’t use school Malay, high Malay, the press was saying. Our subscribers aren’t graduates of the state schools. We’re not going to risk bankruptcy by using such foreign spelling.
    The report went on to complain about the new postal regulations obliging letter writers to use the new spelling. Trying to stop mail that used the old spelling would be like trying to hold back the sea with your bare hands, they said.
    What! Why didn’t I see this headline before? Staring at me in such large print? Japan was laying claim to Sabang Island with its coal station. Was this true? And the paper’s comment: “This clown’s behavior is getting more and more out of hand.” As expected, there was also a small item about an urgently called meeting of naval personnel.
    The tram moved on smoothly to the clanging of the brass bell. Betawi! Ah, Betawi! Here I am now in your center. You don’t know me yet, Betawi! But I know you. You’ve turned Ciliwung into a canal, with boats and rafts going back and forth, laden with goods from the interior. Almost like Surabaya. Your buildings are big and grand, but my spirit is bigger and grander.
    It was said that the Ciliwung was once lined by a long unbroken line of sumptuous buildings. Now they had been turned into shops and makeshift workshops, mostly Chinese-owned. And in the middle of all this, I stood out as something extraordinary. I wore shoes; most others went barefoot. I wore a felt hat; most others wore bamboo
destars.
I wore European clothes; others wore shorts, went bare-chested, or wore pajamas.
    The scenery was full of color. My heart was even brighter,full of joy. Where are you all, maids of Priangan, famed for your grace, beauty, and smooth, satin skin? I haven’t seen even one yet! Come on out of your houses! Here I am now. Where are all the Dasimas that
Francis
wrote about?
    I could not find what I was looking for. The first-class compartment contained mostly Eurasians, with their dried-up skin and arrogant posing. Next to me sat an old Eurasian