The Food Stall<\/p>\n
By Lea Pamungkas<\/p>\n
Idah choked and some moist grains of rice fell from her mouth.
\nHer mother's call had disturbed her. The woman across the street
\nhad just arrived. This morning she was dressed in white down to
\nher shoes. Only her hair, long and tangled, was black. A few
\nmoments later the automobile would leave again.<\/p>\n
The automobile was not too good. It resembled a truck but it
\nwas shorter and less bulky. Idah did not know what type of
\nvehicle it was. The driver of the vehicle would not take long.
\nIdah waited for the moment the couple would come close and kiss
\nfurtively. It was a pity Idah did not have time every morning to
\nenjoy the hurried moments which never failed to send shock
\nripples through her.<\/p>\n
"Idah, bring the lime leaves," her mother's voice was rather
\nloud now. Idah frowned. Five coconuts were still waiting in the
\nkitchen to be grated to extract the milk. The skewers still had
\nto be smoothened. Her small hands picked the lime leaves while an
\nant crept up her arm. With a lime leaf she pushed the ant down
\nher arm and crushed it.<\/p>\n
"Idah!" her mother called her again. Her mother's brow was
\nfull of sweat and the odor invaded Idah's nostrils. Idah who had
\njust taken some fresh air outside felt how sharp the sweat
\nsmelled. Her mother snatched the lime leaves from Idah's hands.<\/p>\n
The satay and gulai stall had to open at six in the morning.
\nShortly, truck drivers with red eyes resembling owls would swoop
\ndown on the place. The smell of sweat would expand in her
\nmother's eatery, mixing with cigarette fumes and the aroma of
\ncorn coffee. The customers would drape their feet on the low
\nbenches, leaving their sandals scattered around.<\/p>\n
"Idah has grown into a curvy young woman. I want to reserve
\nher before others do," the drivers were wont to joke. It did not
\ndisplease Idah. Especially if Emet spoke, Rosidah (Idah's full
\nname) would react shyly, waiting impatiently to serve the coffee.
\nEmet's caressing of her behind would still linger with her during
\nher afternoon class. Her mother continued as though she saw
\nnothing. She averted her eyes and busied herself.<\/p>\n
Emet was a favorite among the women of the stalls along the
\nvillage street. Formerly, said Iyam, before her wooden abode was
\nbuilt into a half-brick building, Mira often asked Emet to stay.
\n"But after she knew how to dance the jaipong, acquired a color TV
\nand had her house built in half-brick, Mira often threw Emet
\nout." Besides, Mira had another lover now. Iyam said the new one
\nwas not better looking than Emet.<\/p>\n
Idah's mind often wandered to Emet when doing dishes at the
\nwell in the backyard. She had no notion whether he was handsome
\nor not. His looks were nothing special, with his bulging stomach,
\nshirt stained with motor oil, sweaty odor and red eyes. But the
\nwomen of the eateries still nicknamed him Si Jalu, the title for
\nthe most successful fighting cocks.<\/p>\n
Idah wished that Emet would come to her mother's stall every
\nday, even to live with them. And become her father! But Emet
\nwould certainly not want to marry her mother, who had a harelip.<\/p>\n
"The woman across the street." That phrase had stayed in
\nIdah's mind because her mother always used that one when
\nmentioning Mira. Her mother, yellow skinned, silent and
\napparently always in a hurry, never spoke much. But Idah knew,
\nfrom their neighbors, that her father had been jobless, did not
\ndare to get married and was banished after he was caught red-
\nhanded consorting with "the woman across the street".<\/p>\n
In Idah's eyes nothing was wanting in the woman across the
\nstreet, this Mira. She was cleaner than all the women in the
\nvillage, more beautiful, more fragrant. She had many clothes,
\nmany shoes, but above all she was more cheerful. Idah rarely saw
\nher, especially in the afternoon. But when dusk fell and Idah was
\nsweeping the front part of her mother's eatery, she looked
\nforward to seeing the happiness on Mira's face.<\/p>\n
How Idah wanted to be like Mira. She did not care what people
\nsaid about Mira, how their lips would protrude at least two
\ncentimeters as they talked about her. In her heart Idah always
\nsaid, "I want to become Mira". A hooker. But when asked what she
\nwanted to be, especially by teachers and elders, Idah answered
\nlike her neighbor in class, "I want to be a doctor".<\/p>\n
But for her, Mira was no different from a doctor or many rich
\npeople in the village. Besides, who in the village was not talked
\nabout behind closed doors? Yet, outside, people nodded
\nrespectfully and addressed each other when they met.<\/p>\n
The kerosene lamp in her mother's eatery had been on for some
\ntime and night had fallen. The usually quiet village did not
\nleave any dark place for torches on the road side. Each night was
\nmarket time: each day was a holiday for some, hard work for
\nothers. Several houses which had the good fortune to have
\nelectricity sent yellowish or white rays into the street. And
\npassersby focused their attention on the women sitting behind
\nred-paper-fronted glass jars, beer bottles. Dangdut music was
\nplayed at high volume.<\/p>\n
During the past few weeks, few trucks parked in front of the
\neateries. The dam project in the south had reduced its
\nactivities. It was rumored that compensation for the villagers'
\nland had not been paid. Many of the drivers were put on non-
\nactive duty. They abandoned the reddish mounds of sand and
\nchaotic fields which looked as if devastated by a storm. Large
\nwide holes were left gaping with murky water inside.<\/p>\n
No harvest was expected by the villagers. Instead many
\neateries appeared suddenly. Since the dam project employed
\nworkers from outside the region, the villagers got even by
\nemploying new workers from neighboring villages. At the same time
\nthey could stay open 24 hours.<\/p>\n
"If things are like this, our customers will also leave us,"
\nsaid Idah's neighbors.<\/p>\n
"If I had known this, I would not have called Euis to come
\nhere. The beautiful and sexy are of no use if the drivers do not
\ncome here anymore," Iyam complained. Waiting for her turn to take
\nwater from the well, she was fingering her nose.<\/p>\n
"I have bought a new mattress. It is Mira who fares best. Even
\nif the dam project is off or the project is finished, she remains
\nquiet," somebody said. In the semidarkness the sound of water was
\noften heard being splashed over a body.<\/p>\n
Idah was doing the dishes close to them, her head bowed in
\nsilence. Soap suds were falling into the glasses. "You see it is
\nMira again who is the luckiest. It would not be far wrong to wish
\nto be like her," Idah thought.<\/p>\n
"Yes, but Mira has the same customers, again and again. We
\nhave various customers. We get to know various people," Iyam
\nanswered.<\/p>\n
"Various, indeed. But they are all truck drivers. If they do
\nnot smell of oil, they smell of sweat," somebody said bitterly.
\nThere was no talk any more. They were all getting ready. While
\nthe night progressed, the village grew very quiet. The sound of
\nheavy trucks passed occasionally. The stalls looked deserted. A
\nfew women were sitting on low benches, jesting with each other.
\nAt times they dissolved into silent pondering.<\/p>\n
After one month the situation of the village remained the
\nsame. The sound of crickets that used to be overpowered by the
\nhumming of truck engines, or loud laughter, was heard again
\ndistinctly. Stalls once open 24 hours were now closed. Many
\nresidents moved on to unknown destinations. Along with Idah's
\nmother's eatery, only five other stalls were trying their luck.
\nThree of these only opened two days on the weekend, when the
\ndrivers received their pay and made a stopover before going home
\nthe next day.<\/p>\n
Apart from Mira who seemed unaffected by the halt in the dam
\nactivities, Idah's mother's eatery appeared to enjoy business as
\nusual. The menu had remained unchanged: gulai and satay, steamed
\nrice, bitter coffee, plain water and sugared tea. The place was
\nnever crowded, but never really quiet either. Idah did not feel
\ndisturbed by the changes in the surroundings. She had not seen
\nWati for a long time, let alone Euis. No matter, because Idah
\ncould steal a glance every morning at Mira showing off, even
\nthough her behavior was always the same.<\/p>\n
Besides, Emet still came to the eatery as he had not been laid
\noff. At least twice a week Emet transported sand to the city. He
\nusually came by five o'clock in the afternoon. Idaha made a
\nmental note that he came Wednesdays and Saturdays.<\/p>\n
Another driver, Kang Dolet, appeared on Mondays and Thursdays.
\nMang Sarkon came every other day with no fixed hour. There were
\nsome others like Pak Sarbini and Mas Karto. Idah's knowledge of
\nthe drivers' schedules was a great help to her mother who did not
\nneed to worry about excess food.<\/p>\n
"Idah, your cuts of meat are too large. We lose money that
\nway. This is the size. I have told you again and again," her
\nmother handed her a piece of meat. It was not that Idah did not
\nknow the size of the meat for the satay, but Emet was coming that
\nday. And Idah wanted to do something special in her way. Despite
\nher mother's reminders, Idah continued to make bigger cuts. In
\norder to escape detection, she hid the skewers with the bigger
\ncuts of meat underneath those of the usual size. She would take
\nthem out when Emet was there.<\/p>\n
In time, Idah's mother knew what Idah did for Emet. Emet also
\nknew, and the other customers did as well. Her mother still tried
\nto reprimand her on her behavior but finally gave up. Her mother
\nwas equally unsuccessful in dissuading Idah from standing in
\nfront of the window at dawn.<\/p>\n
Idah had now acquired another habit. When the eatery was about
\nto close at night, she would hurry to the front yard to see the
\ncolor of the lipstick worn by Mira that day.<\/p>\n
Her mother did not understand that Idah's scope of knowledge
\nwas widening. It was not limited to mere kissing. She could
\nrightly guess where the hands of men would go when embracing
\nMira. She would play the scenes herself before going to bed. She
\nwas becoming coquettish to herself.<\/p>\n
A snag occurred in Idah's "search for knowledge" when one day
\nthe well ran dry. "As long as I live, the well has never run dry.
\nAt worst the level of the water drops in the dry season. Now, we
\nare not even in the dry season yet," Idah's mother grumbled. She
\nbecame more sullen when after three days the water did not
\nsurface. The wells belonging to her neighbors and to the people
\nin the next village were in the same condition.<\/p>\n
The stalls had to be closed. Unwashed dishes emanated a foul
\nsmell and invited swarms of flies. "I am sorry, Pak, there is no
\nwater. For some days we have not been able to cook and to open
\nshop," Idah's mother haltingly told Mang Sarkon. She was very
\nembarrassed. For days Indah's mother had to repeat the same
\nsentences to every would-be customer. She was suffering.<\/p>\n
At night her mother had tears in her eyes. "They now have to
\nlook for food elsewhere. When will these skewers be used again?"
\nher mother was holding a bunch of smoothened skewers in her hand.
\nIdah did not say anything. She was sad on her own account: the
\nclosing of her mother's stall meant there would be no more Emet.<\/p>\n
"Mother, why do not you have the well dug deeper?" Idah said
\nsuddenly on the fourth evening of the stall's closure. Her mother
\nglared at her. "It is easy to talk about it. Who is going to dig
\nthe well? We have no money to pay for it." Idah seemed to
\nreflect. The sound of crickets and insects was clearly heard.
\nIdah had already thought of the reply in the morning.<\/p>\n
"Why do not you ask for Mang Emet's help," Idah's voice was
\nrather shaky. Her mother's eyes were glaring again. She did not
\ncomment though. Her hands were busy cleaning plates with a cloth
\nthat was only fit for mopping the floor. She took a deep breath
\nand looked fleetingly at Idah. "Will he do it? He has to be fed
\nand paid. Moreover, there is no connection between him and us."<\/p>\n
The light of the kerosene lantern suddenly went dim. Idah
\napproached her mother thoughtfully, "Why do not you talk to Mang
\nEmet? Maybe he is willing, besides he has still a debt to settle
\nwith you. He has not paid for the last five times. He said he
\nwould pay you at the end of the month." Her mother's face
\ncleared. She started counting Emet's debt.<\/p>\n
"It is not enough, not enough," her voice faltered while she
\nwas crying. Idah came to sit beside her mother. She took a deep
\nbreath and said, "I will talk to Mang Emet, mother. I am sure he
\nwill help." Her mother remained silent.<\/p>\n
When Emet appeared the next day, he smiled and there was a
\nglitter in his eyes, naughtiness itself. Serving him only half a
\nglass of coffee, Idah told him of her conversation with her
\nmother the night before. Her mother was nowhere to be seen,
\nperhaps she was hiding.<\/p>\n
Emet greeted Idah's request happily. "Miss, it is just a well.
\nI would be prepared to enter a grave if you asked for it." Emet
\nwas laughing heartily while squeezing her cheek. She suddenly
\nfelt her palms become sweaty. "But, Mang, mother has no money to
\nbuy food, to pay the cost ..."<\/p>\n
"Hush, I am no stranger, Idah. It is all right." Emet slurped
\nhis coffee and put a cigarette between his lips. Idah went to get
\nsome matches. She was nervous because it was the first time that
\nshe had talked at some length with Emet. They were alone.<\/p>\n
"Come and sit here, Miss," Emet said tapping on the place
\nbeside him. Idah was in doubt for a moment, but then she smiled
\nand came near Emet. "To speed up things, come and ride with me to
\npick up some tools at the dam, okay?" Emet's eyes were shining.
\nAll of a sudden Idah was sitting on his lap. He kissed her cheeks
\nquickly. Idah looked surprised. Without being aware, she nodded.<\/p>\n
On the truck in the direction of the dam she remembered her
\nmother. She had forgotten to say goodbye. She became anxious. The
\ntruck made a stop. Emet got out and ran to the row of triplex
\nshacks on the side of the road leading to the construction site.
\nSeveral men were trying to look into the truck, but Emet
\nimmediately prevented them.<\/p>\n
Idah heard the men laughing. She felt how small her body was
\nand how long was the seat of the truck. Idah lay down but there
\nwas still space left on the seat. She rubbed her body against the
\nseat and enjoyed the heat on her back. She was startled when Emet
\nopened the door. Oh, Mang Emet. Have you finished?" Idah asked.
\nShe was still reclining and her skirt had ridden up.<\/p>\n
Emet placed tools wrapped in canvas beneath the seat. "I have.
\nBut now we will go for a ride. You have not been here, have you?"
\nWithout waiting for her answer, he put the vehicle in gear,
\nturned and drove on. Men were waving, others were whistling.<\/p>\n
Emet smiled thinly. His strong and dark arms handled the wheel
\nexpertly. From the side windows the trees were seen running past,
\nthe wind spread dust onto Idah's face. All came to a halt when
\nEmet's body obstructed her view. Mira's shadow was present in
\nIdah's mind: closed eyes and moving hands. Finally everything
\nbecame vague and confused.<\/p>\n
When the truck arrived in front of her mother's stall, Idah
\nstill did not know what was going on inside of her. She only
\nnodded when Emet squeezed her fingers and said that he would dig
\nthe well the next day. She did not want to ask him why he did not
\ncome in for a moment. This time Idah forgot to cover her nose
\nwhen the truck tore noisily away, sending dust flying around.<\/p>\n
"Mang Emet will dig the well tomorrow, mother," Idah said. Her
\nlegs were shaking a little when her mother looked into her eyes
\ndeeply. Idah waited, but no words came from her mother's mouth.
\nBriefly, before entering her room, Idah saw tears welling in her
\nmother's eyes. Idah did not care. She preferred to enjoy her new
\nexperience.<\/p>\n
Even the next day when Emet was busy digging the well, Idah
\ndid not see him. Emet descended deep into the earth, only the
\nsound of a crowbar against rocks was vaguely heard. She just put
\ntwo glasses of coffee on the rim of the well. The two glasses
\nwere still untouched when she came with a third glass.<\/p>\n
The neighbors' happy cries and her mother's wide smile did not
\nattract Idah's attention. She was busy, completely engrossed in
\nherself. A feeling of joy took hold of her. She felt she had
\nattained the apex of something that she had wanted all along, and
\nshe was at the same time liberated from ignorance. She was
\nconvinced that from now on she could do whatever she wanted. Go
\nout at night and come home at dawn. She did not feel as small as
\nwhen she was on the seat of Emet's truck. On the contrary she
\nfelt big and happy.<\/p>\n
The well in the backyard had water again as usual, and Emet
\noften came to her mother's satay and gulai stall. Life in the
\nvillage was not bustling again. There was no longer a row of
\nstalls in the village. Most of them had gone bankrupt. Only the
\neateries of Idah's mother and Iyam remained.<\/p>\n
The construction of the dam, already going on for three years,
\nhad apparently not changed anything. Of late some people had
\ndiscussed more frequently the problem of compensation for the
\nland used for the dam construction. The village hall was often
\nfull with people in meetings. Rumors swirled and clashed: "The
\namount of compensation has been increased", "the people get no
\ncompensation, their understanding is requested for the dam
\nconstruction", "high officials will come, the community is asked
\nto jointly clean upthe village", "the villagers complain", and
\non, and on.<\/p>\n
Sometimes families came to the stall to say goodbye to Idah
\nand her mother. They moved to the city or went to live with their
\nrelatives in another village. The people with claims for
\ncompensation looked confused. They were idle, there were no
\nfields to be tilled and the crops remained a dream. They just sat
\ntalking to each other. Their voices sometimes expressed anger,
\nbut more often bitterness and sadness. Sometimes they went in
\ngroups to the city carrying large banners. They were away for
\ndays.<\/p>\n
Possibly because of that, people easily forgot that in the
\nvillage there had once been a glorious harvest feast with an all-
\nnight wayang performance. At another time a row of eateries had
\nsprung up along the road to the border. There were scores of
\nbeautiful women and boisterous truck drivers.<\/p>\n
Nobody could remember. And nobody could remember the time when
\nIdah had always smelled of fragrance and had been merrier than
\neverybody in the village. People had no time to ask why Idah
\nnever served customers at her mother's eatery anymore. They also
\nnever asked why Idah's mother had lost her voice and become dumb.<\/p>\n
Translated by SH<\/p>\n
The author was born in Bandung in 1964 and still lives in this
\ncity in West Java. She became interested in poetry and literature
\nwhen she was in grade school. She graduated from the School of
\nLetters of Padjadjaran University, where she majored in
\nIndonesian literature. Warung Pinggir Jalan (The Food Stall)
\nappears in Pistol Perdamaian: Cerpen Pilihan Kompas 1996 (Pistol
\nof Peace: An Anthology of Kompas Short Stories 1996). It is
\nprinted here by courtesy of Kompas.<\/p>\n
Glossary:
\n gulai = curry stew
\n jaipong = a Sundanese dance
\n si = definite article used before names
\n mang = uncle (Sundanese)
\n pak = sir
\n mas = brother (Javanese)
\n kang = brother (Sundanese)<\/p>",
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