Santet<\/p>\n
By Dewi Anggraeni<\/p>\n
The heat is becoming increasingly oppressive though relief
\nfrom the late afternoon's humidity is slowly descending. Bob and
\nRiyadi leave the modest building which serves as their clinic,
\neach carrying his case. Riyadi stops to take his cigarette pack
\nout of his trouser pocket. Bob, still puzzled by the day's
\nevents, slows down to let Riyadi catch up with him.<\/p>\n
This morning when he came to the clinic, Rohana, his nursing
\naid, was talking to the cleaner, Udin. From Rohana's slightly
\nirritated voice, Bob suspected that she was admonishing Udin.
\nBeing aware of the pecking order in the establishment, Bob didn't
\nfind it strange, though he did not look around for the source of
\nher dissatisfaction. Not finding anything out of the ordinary,
\nBob casually dismissed the incident from his mind and went about
\nhis work.<\/p>\n
Bob takes his work seriously. Twenty-six and full of ideals,
\nhe joined Australian Volunteers Abroad five months ago, and was
\nsent to the small town of Tulungagung in East Java. There he
\nworks with another medical doctor from Yogyakarta, Riyadi.
\nTulungagung has suffered from a series of natural disasters and
\nthe people are suffering from malnutrition.<\/p>\n
Though Bob has a fair mastery of the Indonesian language, he
\noften finds himself unable to communicate with the Tulungagung
\ntownsfolk, especially those from the outskirts. He's grateful for
\nthe company of Riyadi, who has been able to interpret for him
\nwhen necessary. He has now learned a few Javanese words for basic
\ncommunication.<\/p>\n
Riyadi, a recent graduate from Gadjah Mada University, is
\ncompleting his first year of working away from his hometown,
\nYogya. To him, going to Tulungagung was almost as daunting as
\ngoing to another country. During the years of his studies, he
\nonly went to big cities for medical students' seminars. Born into
\na middle class family, he spent his childhood and youth amongst
\nhis class, while contacts with people of working class were
\nincidental and peripheral. The only constant contacts were with
\nhis domestic servants.<\/p>\n
When he met Bob Fairchild, he was amazed at Bob's willingness
\nto work in conditions, he imagined, far below the sophistication
\nhe had been accustomed to. Being his junior, in age and in
\nexperience, Riyadi had been prepared to learn from him. But Bob
\nhumbly admitted that his knowledge of local illnesses was only
\nbased on books and medical literature, while Riyadi had had two
\nyears of practical experience in the general hospital of Yogya
\nkarta. This and the fact that he speaks Javanese, has given him
\nthe comfortable feeling of being Bob's host.<\/p>\n
Riyadi quickens his pace to catch up with Bob. They walk
\nsilently toward their lodgings, which are two doors away from
\neach other.<\/p>\n
\"Di, what is santet?' Bob asks suddenly.<\/p>\n
Riyadi doesn't answer immediately. He looks at Bob through the
\nhaze of his cigarette smoke, wondering.<\/p>\n
\"Why do you ask, Bob?\"<\/p>\n
Bob begins by telling about Riyadi Rohana's apparent annoyance
\nwith Udin this morning. \"I didn't attach much importance to the
\nincident at first. But I couldn't help noticing the way she
\nbecame sharp with some people each time they mentioned the world
\nsantet. And she'd furtively look at my head when she thought I
\nwouldn't notice. When I asked her once or twice what was
\nbothering her, she wouldn't tell me. She said there was nothing
\nbothering her. I knew damned well there was! So what is santet?\"<\/p>\n
Riyadi was half aware of what happened during the day, because
\nthey were only separated by a thin curtain. He heard almost
\neverything that was said in Bob's cubicle, but of course he
\ncouldn't see them.<\/p>\n
\"The townsfolk are getting scared, Bob. Every day there are
\npeople dying.\"<\/p>\n
Bob is suddenly overcome by a sense of powerlessness. He and
\nRiyadi can only help the situation by giving the people vitamin
\nsupplements and antibiotics when they are needed. But these are
\nonly temporary solutions. Their bodies have become so weak from
\nmalnutrition, that only the correct nutrition will help in the
\nlong run.<\/p>\n
\"Is that what they've been discussing with Rohana?\"<\/p>\n
Riyadi nodded. \"Lately they've also been angry, because
\namongst the victims there have been children.\"<\/p>\n
\"So what is santet?\" Bob becomes restless.<\/p>\n
\"Santet is a sort of witchcraft, Bob. In their hysteria, the
\ntownsfolk believe that some people have been practicing it,
\nkilling children for sacrifice.\"<\/p>\n
\"What? How'd it start?\"<\/p>\n
Bob stops walking. He is almost a head taller that Riyadi, who
\nhas to tilt his head to look at his face. To Bob's discomfort,
\nRiyadi seems to stare at his hair, though only for a moment. He
\nmakes a self-conscious gesture of running his fingers through his
\nhoney-colored hair.<\/p>\n
\"I'm not sure. I was too busy to enquire. We were flat out.\"<\/p>\n
\"Di!\" Bob says earnestly, \"We must stop this rumor. It's not
\ntrue, and it'll only detract from the real issue, malnutrition!\"<\/p>\n
\"How do you stop it?\" asks Riyadi.<\/p>\n
Bob looks flabbergasted. \"Di! Fancy you asking me that! We'll
\nplan another series of information sessions. We must dispel that
\nirrational fear. You'll take the major role, Di. You are
\nJavanese, and the authority. They'll trust you!\"<\/p>\n
Riyadi shakes his head calmly. This kind of Javanese
\nunaffectedness often exasperates Bob.<\/p>\n
\"You must understand. I have their trust when it concerns
\ncurable illnesses. When it comes to mysterious, incurable
\nillnesses, such as malnutrition, they place their faith in
\ndoctors of a different dimension, the dukuns. Besides, I don't
\nthink they trust me fully, especially in this sensitive area. I
\nam not a local. I'm from Yogyakarta, remember?\"<\/p>\n
Saying that, he starts walking again, leading Bob, who still
\nlooks incredulous at Riyadi's apparent acceptance of the ghastly
\nsituation. His friend's slight build and his mop of thick dark
\nwavy hair disguise his real age. Bob wonders whether this young
\nand frail frame also houses a rather carefree young mind.<\/p>\n
In front of Bob's lodgings, Riyadi turns around and hesitates
\nbefore saying, \"Bob, we've had a heavy day. Maybe you should take
\nit easy now and have an early night. Don't come out again
\ntonight.\"<\/p>\n
After his patronizing thoughts about Riyadi, what he said
\nseems so incongruous to the extent of being amusing. \"Yes,
\nchief,\" he said, almost laughing with condescension. Of course he
\nhas no intention of following Riyadi's advice.<\/p>\n
After his shower, he asks Sakiyem, his domestic help, if she
\nhas pressed his cotton jacket. Instead of answering his question,
\nSakiyem looks concerned, then timidly inquires, \"Are you going
\nanywhere, sir?\"<\/p>\n
Bob flushes. He nearly chides her for being impudent, when he
\nchecks himself and realizes that the day's events have put a
\nstrain on his nerves. \"I might go out after dinner, Sakiyem.
\nAnything wrong with that?\"<\/p>\n
Sakiyem's face becomes expressionless. She looks at Bob's
\nhead, then at the floor and says, \"No sir. But you look tired.\"<\/p>\n
Bob feels a shiver run down his spine. He doesn't know whether
\nit is caused by impatience or apprehension. Why does everyone
\nshow so much concern about his physical well-being? He remembers
\neven Rohana said something similar. Do I really look that bad? I
\ndon't feel particularly tired. Not more than usual.<\/p>\n
\"I'm alright, Sakiyem. Just bring me that jacket, will you?\"<\/p>\n
Now he feels more determined than ever. He has to go out, even
\nif only to prove to himself that he is fit and well.<\/p>\n
The night air grips his face as soon as he walks out of the
\nhouse. Bob can't remember such a chilly night since he arrived in
\nTulungagung. After hesitating for a minute, he decides to turn
\nnorth, away from Riyadi's place. But he has only taken a few
\nsteps when he hears his name called. Looking over his shoulder he
\nsees Riyadi running towards him. Though he hadn't intended to
\nseek his company, Bob quietly welcomes Riyadi's presence. They
\nbegin walking north, towards the outskirts. Neither comments on
\nthe unusualness of this walk, as they usually walk to the town
\nsquare on their evenings off.<\/p>\n
As they stroll further away from the town center they meet and
\ngreet fewer people. The full moon follows them into a lane
\nbetween dry patches of land where, in better times, there were
\nrice fields. There are dilapidated huts which look like they have
\nbeen carelessly thrown there by a bad tampered God from his
\nheavenly carriage. The sight depresses Bob. He feels like an
\nalien who landed on a planet deserted by human love. Buttoning
\nhis jacket up he looks toward the sky. It is so clear, Bob starts
\nlooking for Orion the Hunter.<\/p>\n
\"Di, look! That's Orion. In Australia, we call that
\nconstellation The Saucepan. I reckon the Greeks are more
\nromantic, don't you?\"<\/p>\n
Suddenly they both look puzzled. \"A meteorite!\" exclaims Bob,
\nfollowing what he thinks is a meteorite with his eyes. It moves
\nfast high above their heads, then takes a dive into a cluster of
\nhouses in town.<\/p>\n
\"That, that was not a meteorite, Bob!\" Riyadi stutters,
\nexcitedly.<\/p>\n
Bob is astonished, he has never seen Riyadi excited before. In
\nfact, he thought that because of his refined middle class
\nbackground, Riyadi could never become excited.<\/p>\n
\"What was it then?\"<\/p>\n
\"It was....oh God. I've only seen one of those once before,
\nwhen I was fifteen. I was sitting on the verandah with my
\ngrandmother. Then we saw it. My grandmother took me inside the
\nhouse straight away. Then she and my mother had an excited talk
\nabout some evil dukun casting a spell. 'It went in the direction
\nof the kepala kampung, the head of the community. Someone
\nobviously wanted to get rid of him.' I heard my grandmother say.
\nThe next day we heard that the kepala kampung was ill. Bob, I
\nknow it sounds fantastic to you. But I think we'd better get back
\nhome, whatever you think!\"<\/p>\n
Riyadi starts heading for the town without waiting for an
\nanswer, with Bob close behind him.<\/p>\n
They arrive panting at Bob's door. Sakiyem appears and looks
\nrelieved to see them. When they burst in and collapse into chairs
\nshe leaves them to make some hot drinks.<\/p>\n
Bob stands up and takes his jacket off. \"I know it sounds
\nridiculous, Di. But I know how you felt then. I felt it too!\"<\/p>\n
\"You were scared?\" asks Riyadi, taking out a cigarette. \"Yes.
\nScared! It wasn't only your story, Di. The whole place was sort
\nof eerie. No joke!\"<\/p>\n
They feel much better after the ginger drinks that Sakiyem
\nmade them. Riyadi feels tired. His body seems to slow down after
\nsuch an uncharacteristic flow of adrenalin. He stands up,
\nstretches and yawns.<\/p>\n
\"Enough excitement for one night, children!\" Bob has recovered
\nenough to joke about the situation.<\/p>\n
Riyadi becomes alert as soon as he leaves Bob's place. Looking
\nover his shoulder he rushes to his lodgings. Mentally running
\nthrough what he heard at the clinic, he changes into his pajamas.<\/p>\n
He remembers an old woman's voice discussing Bob in local
\nJavanese. \"The doctor's hair is the color of the hair on the
\ncorn. That's what they say your hair becomes when you practice
\nsantet.\"<\/p>\n
Rohana's voice was terse. \"Not santet again! The doctor has
\nnothing to do with santet! His hair has always been that color!\"<\/p>\n
The next significant mention of santet came from a rather
\nyoung farm laborer who lost his job through the long drought.<\/p>\n
\"It is not malnutrition that kills the children. The last
\ndrought didn't claim that many young victims. Don't you
\nremember?\"<\/p>\n
Rohana gave a non-committal \"Hmmm,\" then, as if she had just
\nremembered, she asked, \"And what do you think kills them, then?\"<\/p>\n
The young man lowered his voice, though still audible, \"We
\nbelieve some people are practicing santet. They fast until their
\nhair turns that color, then they start claiming children for
\ntheir sacrifice.\"<\/p>\n
Rohana gasped, \"How horrible! Are you sure of this?\"<\/p>\n
\"My father is a dukun. He knows about these things.\"<\/p>\n
\"Does he know who these people are?\" asks Rohana.<\/p>\n
\"He has a rough idea. So have many people around here. They're
\nrecognizable by their hair color. That's why they're all in
\nhiding.\"<\/p>\n
Riyadi goes to the bathroom to wash his face. After what he
\nsaw on his walk, he is not so ready to dismiss the young man's
\naccount as primitive superstition. Throughout his medical
\nstudies, he was trained to think scientifically, to reject
\nillnesses caused by witchcraft as psychosomatic. He thus felt
\nthat he was impervious to anything related to witchcraft. He
\nnever though that a simple meteorite could arouse his primeval
\nfear. Maybe in every sophisticated person's mind, there is a well
\nof primeval intuitions, yet still accessible when he or she is
\nnot mentally alert? He shakes the excess water from his face and
\nneck before pulling his towel off the hook, hoping to shake off
\nthese absurd thoughts from his mind as well.<\/p>\n
Sitting on his bed smoking, his eyes wander to his desk where
\na booklet from the WHO on malnutrition is left untouched. He
\ngrabs the booklet and starts reading it until his brain refuses
\nto take in any more information. He then puffs up his pillow and
\ngratefully lays his head on it.<\/p>\n
Riyadi jumps. The mob bursts through his front door, past the
\nfront room and bursts into his bedroom. He catches a glimpse of
\nBob's honey colored hair and hears his cry for help before the
\nwhole mob attacks him. Riyadi watches helplessly as the men,
\nyoung and old, swing their improvised weapons on the limp body on
\nthe floor. The angry mob now turns on him. Excited, violence-
\ninspired faces surround him, hissing and yelling. Fear, real fear
\nsuddenly wakes him. The young doctor is sweating and suffocating.<\/p>\n
Groggily sitting up and sweeping his feet around the floor
\nlooking for his thongs, Riyadi becomes vaguely aware of angry
\nvoices trailing off into the distance. His fear returns, mixed
\nwith confusion of not knowing whether he is awake or asleep.<\/p>\n
He is jolted into full wakefulness when his feet feel the cold
\nof the tiled floor. Scrambling with his thongs half-on half-off,
\nhe reaches the front door and runs out of the house.<\/p>\n
Bob wakes up from a surrealistic dream, suffering with a dry
\nthroat. He gets up to pour himself a drink of cold water from the
\njug Sakiyem always leaves on the table near his bed. The first
\nsip has barely wet his mouth when he is jolted by frantic
\nknocking on the front door.<\/p>\n
Riyadi flings himself on him, muttering, \"Alhamdulilah,
\nalhamdulilah! I'm glad to see you, Bob!\"<\/p>\n
Bob pulls himself away out of the urgency to find out what has
\nbrought Riyadi in such a state. Seeing Riyadi's face, he gasps.<\/p>\n
\"Bloody hell! What happened to you?\"<\/p>\n
\"I.... I had a horrific dream. Oh God! They must've. Oh no!
\nThey can't have, I couldn't have heard them. No. I was still
\ndreaming.\"<\/p>\n
\"Di! What the hell's going on?\" asks Bob, extremely anxious by
\nnow.<\/p>\n
Riyadi helps himself to Bob's glass of water, then sits down
\nholding his head. He's still shivering slightly.<\/p>\n
He begins to tell Bob of his dream, but is interrupted by a
\nknock at the door.<\/p>\n
Four security officials are standing on the small verandah.
\nOne of them, who speaks Indonesian, greets Bob.<\/p>\n
\"Doctor Bob, I'm glad you are up. Oh, Doctor Riyadi! Here you
\nare! We went to your place but...\"<\/p>\n
\"What happened, Pak Giarto?\" asks Riyadi.<\/p>\n
Giarto clears his throat. For Bob's benefit he explains their
\nvisit in Indonesian. \"There has been an unfortunate happening. A
\nman and his daughter have been mobbed by an angry crowd from the
\nneighboring kampung. We might need your help.\"<\/p>\n
\"What? Where are they?\" asks Riyadi.<\/p>\n
\"In Kampung Papan, Doc.\"<\/p>\n
Both Bob and Riyadi recall that Kampung Papan is on the
\nnorthern outskirts of Tulanggan, where they had a walk several
\nhours ago.<\/p>\n
They all pile into the old Morris Minor, which coughs and
\nshakes its way northward.<\/p>\n
In the car Giarto tells Riyadi and Bob that the crowd was
\nconvinced that the two victims were practicing santet, because a
\nseven-year-old child had died a short time beforehand.<\/p>\n
The little bomb takes them past the dry patch of land where
\nthey saw the dilapidated huts on their walk. A few hundred metres
\nlater it sputters to a stop. For a while Bob thinks they are
\ngoing to see the poor father and daughter lying on the side of
\nthe road. But a security official comes out from a cluster of dry
\nbanana trees and welcomes them. They find the dwelling place, as
\nsmall, woebegone looking hut behind the dead trees. Bob and
\nRiyadi walk in first. They lift the rags that cover the two
\nbodies and Bob winces. He can't help noticing, even in the kero
\nsene light, that their hair, matted with congealed blood, is
\nlight brown.<\/p>\n
\"Innalilahi wa'ina ilaihi ro'jiun\", he hears Riyadi whisper.<\/p>\n
Two days later, in a Jakartan newspaper, a small article tells
\nthe story of a poor farmer and his daughter who were mobbed to
\ndeath by angry kampung dwellers on the outskirts of Tulungagung
\nin East Java. \"The kampung dwellers believed that they were
\npracticing santet, proven, they said, by the light brown color of
\ntheir hair. However, according to the two doctors practicing in
\nthe town, Doctor Riyadi and Doctor Robert Fairchild, the
\ndiscoloring of the hair was only a symptom of malnutrition.\"<\/p>\n
On the same day, Maureen Fairchild in the Melbourne suburb of
\nEltham in Australia, receives a telegram from her son,
\n\"EVERYTHING OK STOP UNHURT STOP WILL WRITE SOON LOVE BOB.\"<\/p>\n
Puzzled, she rings up her husband at work. \"Ted, what's
\nhappened in Indonesia? Was there a riot or something?\"<\/p>\n
Dewi Anggraeni was born in Jakarta, Indonesia. She lives in
\nMelbourne with her husband and two children. She was the
\nAustralian correspondent for the former Tempo magazine, and now
\nwrites for The Jakarta Post, Forum Keadilan, and other
\npublications in Indonesia and Australia. Her works have been
\npublished in both Indonesian and English, in Australia and
\nIndonesia. She has three books published in Australia: two
\nnovels, The Root of All Evil (1987) and Parallel Forces (1988),
\nand the third, a trilogy of novellas, Stories of Indian Pacific
\n(1993).<\/p>",
"url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/santet-1447899208",
"image": ""
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"sponsor": "Okusi Associates",
"sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com"
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