From Kota to Harmoni<\/p>\n
By Idrus<\/p>\n
The tram was packed with people, baskets, empty and filled
\ncontainers, goats and chickens. The day was hot, and the people
\nand animals were soaked with sweat. The tram stank from sweat and
\nterasi. The window ledges were speckled with the tomato-red
\nstains of betel juice.<\/p>\n
Breathing was difficult in the tram, but people smoked just
\nthe same -- to overcome the stink of seat and shrimp paste. A
\nyoung woman, a Eurasian, took out her handkerchief, small as a
\nlemper wrapping leaf, and put it to her nose. \"Who on earth
\nbrought that terasi on the tram,\" she complained, \"You'd think
\nthey would know better. This is first class, after all.\"<\/p>\n
A Chinese man, fat as Churchill, retorted angrily: \"Oh, shut
\nup. It's 'co-prosperity' time now, not just for the Dutch.\" He
\nthen bent over and took a small packet from his vegetable basket.
\n\"Here's the terasi!\" he said, shoving the packet towards the
\nwoman. \"Now what are you going to do about it?\"<\/p>\n
An old woman, stooped and thin, whose blouse was so full of
\nholes that it looked like a lace bedspread, was being berated by
\nthe conductor: \"This is first class. What are you doing here?
\nMove to the back! If you don't, you'll have to pay the extra.\"<\/p>\n
\"But it's too crowded back there,\" the old woman begged,
\n\"There's no room for me, sir.\"<\/p>\n
\"If you don't move you'll have to pay the extra,\" the driver
\ninsisted.<\/p>\n
The old woman retreated slowly to second-class. Looking back
\nat the conductor she muttered angrily, \"Look at the airs he puts
\non! He gets a little power from the Japs and this is the way he
\nacts! With an old woman, he acts tough. But you can bet if I were
\nJapanese, he'd be bowing and scraping. Well, piss on him!\"<\/p>\n
A muscular man, who was wearing no shirt, stood up. \"Shut up
\nand sit down!\" he snapped.<\/p>\n
The tram came to a halt at a tram stop. Outside the people
\ncrowded around. \"Disembarking passengers, get out, first!\" the
\nticket seller began to scream. \"Come on, hurry it up!\"<\/p>\n
For a brief moment, the people inside could breathe, but a
\nsecond later the tram was packed again. And then, from outside,
\ncame the strident voice of a Japanese: \"Let me through, you
\nidiots!\"<\/p>\n
The crowd jammed closer together to make way for the Japanese.<\/p>\n
A younger man looked at the Japanese and frowned: \"It doesn't
\nmatter if you're first or second class. They still treat you just
\nthe same - like animals!\"<\/p>\n
But when the Japanese came to stand next to him he suddenly
\nhad no more to say and looked away. When the Japanese put his arm
\nup to hold on to the leather strap attached to the ceiling of the
\ntram, from his short-sleeved shirt there came the distinct smell
\nof shrimp paste. The young man took out his handkerchief and
\ncovered his nose.<\/p>\n
Midway down the line the tram suddenly stopped. Perplexed, the
\npassengers thought for sure the tram had broken down or there had
\nbeen an accident. Everyone looked out and there they saw, in the
\nmiddle of the tracks, three Japanese holding up the tram. Afraid
\nof losing his own head, it seemed, the tram driver had stopped
\nthe tram.<\/p>\n
The tree Japanese boarded the train, scratching the
\npassengers' arms and hands with the hilts of their sword as they
\npushed their way in. Once inside they released a laugh of
\nvictory.<\/p>\n
The tram started off again, squeaking like a rusty pulley. On
\nthe curves the people swung to the side. A young woman landed on
\na young man's lap. As if it happened all the time, the young man
\nhugged the woman around her waist and hoisted her to her feet -
\nbut he didn't give up his seat.<\/p>\n
By this time the smell of sweat had become intolerable and
\neveryone had begun to complain.<\/p>\n
\"Make one remember the old days...\" said an Indonesian man in
\na finely-made shirt who, every so often, would brush the dust
\nfrom his shirtsleeves.<\/p>\n
No one responded to the man's comment; it seems his words were
\ncommonplace.<\/p>\n
At the next stop, a young man and woman got on. Their faces
\nwere red from the heat but they laughed and gabbled in Dutch.
\n\"Hmm, it's really nice in here,\" the young man said, \"just like
\nin a chicken coop!\"<\/p>\n
\"Still, it's better than walking,\" the woman said as she took
\nher handkerchief and clapped it over her hooked nose.<\/p>\n
\"What time is it?\" the man asked.<\/p>\n
The woman raised her left arm to look at her watch. She tried
\npushing up the sleeve of her kebaya, but it wouldn't move. When
\nshe looked again, her watch was sticking out from a hole in the
\nsleeve. \"It's 1:30,\" she said, embarrassed.<\/p>\n
The conductor walked through the coach. \"Tickets, any more
\ntickets?\" he called while passing by the old woman in second
\nclass.<\/p>\n
The woman watched the conductor pass and when his back was to
\nher she stretched the side of her mouth to the right. \"Look at
\nthat monkey,\" she muttered.<\/p>\n
The other passengers found themselves staring in surprise at
\nthe woman's mouth.<\/p>\n
At the Harmoni Building the tram stopped again. From Kota
\nStation to Harmoni, it had taken twenty minutes.<\/p>\n
An Indonesian man wearing Javanese headdress and English-made
\nshoes looked angrily at his watch. \"It used to take only fourteen
\nminutes!\" His voice was shrill, like the rustle of old coconut
\npalm leaves. \"Everything's gone to hell these days.\"<\/p>\n
\"Why don't you get rid of those people on the running board,\"
\nhe complained to the ticket seller. \"Aren't there any rules any
\nmore. You should tell them that it's forbidden, that they'll fall
\noff.\"<\/p>\n
The ticket seller stared at the man in astonishment, then
\ncontemptuously turned his back on him and blew his whistle.<\/p>\n
\"Wait!\" a number of passengers yelled, \"We want to get off.\"<\/p>\n
The tram, which had already begun to move, suddenly stopped
\nand the shoving started again. People were still trying to get
\noff.<\/p>\n
The man in the headdress and English shoes grabbed the ticket
\nseller by the shirt. \"What are you doing?\" he screamed. \"Do you
\ndo whatever comes into your head? Look before you start blowing
\nyour whistle.\"<\/p>\n
The ticket collector grew more astonished. \"Who does he think
\nhe is?\" he mumbled under his breath. He turned away again, but
\nthis time not contemptuously. Who knows? Maybe the man was a
\nmember of the legislature.<\/p>\n
The tram started again. There weren't so many passengers now
\nand only a few remained standing in the aisle. In first class,
\nthere wasn't a single Japanese.<\/p>\n
A fat woman, who was short like a Japanese, wiped the seat
\nfrom her neck. \"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't ride the tram at
\nall,\" she grumbled. \"But they took my car, and still haven't paid
\nfor it. Why don't they just admit that they're thieves. At least
\nthat would be more honest.\"<\/p>\n
\"Who took your car?\" the man who was seated next to the woman
\ninquired.<\/p>\n
\"Who else?\"<\/p>\n
The man laughed in understanding. \"Be patient. The great day
\nwill come.\" The words came as easily as sweat drops on skin.<\/p>\n
\"What? 'Be patient,' you say? If I weren't patient, I would
\nhave been in the nut house a long time ago...\" The woman paused
\nmomentarily, then sighed, \"Times are hard. It was hard in the
\ntwenties, too, but not like now.\"<\/p>\n
A man laughed in understanding. \"Be patient. The great day
\nwill come.\" The words came as easily as sweat drops on skin.<\/p>\n
\"What? 'Be patient,' you say? If I weren't patient, I would
\nhave been in the nut house a long time ago...\" The woman paused
\nmomentarily, then sighed, \"Times are hard. It was hard in the
\ntwenties, too, but not like now.\"<\/p>\n
A man in dirty shorts leaned towards the woman and whispered,
\n\"Better not to talk like that or you might be sorry later.\"<\/p>\n
Near Pasar Baru the tram stopped in front of the theater. More
\npeople got on and off. Several people began to climb in through
\nthe window. One was a Japanese in civilian clothes.<\/p>\n
One of the passengers yelled at the man, \"What are you doing?
\nClimbing in through the window like that! Haven't you any
\nmanners?\"<\/p>\n
The Japanese stuttered a few words in broken Indonesian. The
\nIndonesian turned scarlet, suddenly realizing that the man he'd
\njust yelled at was Japanese. But now, being humiliated in front
\nof the other passengers, he plucked up the courage to continue:
\n\"That's no way to get in. You shouldn't climb in through the
\nwindow.\"<\/p>\n
The Japanese man kept on climbing in and once inside the tram,
\nhe roared at the Indonesian, \"Where do you work? How dare you
\ntell a Japanese what he can't do.\"<\/p>\n
Though inside, the Indonesian man's heart had shriveled to the
\nsize of a Japanese cloth after washing, he still didn't want to
\ngive in.<\/p>\n
\"And you, sir, where do you work?\" he asked. \"I work at the
\nMinistry of Interior.\"<\/p>\n
They argued, but the Japanese refrained from laying a hand on
\nhis opponent. Standing not far away was a military policemen.<\/p>\n
The policeman than said a few words in Japanese to the
\nJapanese civilian. His words seemed sharp and angry. He then
\nturned to the Indonesian and said ingratiatingly, \"I've
\nreprimanded him. After all, he was in the wrong.\"<\/p>\n
The Indonesian felt immensely pleased for having won a
\nglorious victory.<\/p>\n
Translated by Thomas John Hudak<\/p>\n
Glossary:<\/p>\n
Terasi: condiment made from pounded and fermented shrimp or small
\nfish.<\/p>\n
Lemper: snack made of steamed glutinous rice usually with meat
\nand wrapped in a banana leaf.<\/p>\n
Kebaya: traditional blouse.<\/p>", "url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/from-kota-to-harmoni-1447893297", "image": "" }, "sponsor": "Okusi Associates", "sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com" }