Echoes

By Bob Griffith

"Bondi," Ita said impatiently, "you have been staring at that crocodile plant for an hour. Is that what you are going to do for the day? I need you to move your chair so I can sweep there." Ita prodded: "just scoot over a little."

Bondi looked at her as if he had just awakened, not having heard a word she said. "Crocodiles just eat what is there; they have a simple life. But they can be the master of it. We are more like crocodile plants. Life goes well or life is not so good. It is wet or dry and sometimes just about right. For the plant it is a struggle to survive in the garden, and the garden is not something that the plant can do anything about."

"What?" Ita echoed, realizing that her husband may have said something she should hear. "What were you saying?"

Bondi shifted his chair and began again. "I was thinking about plants in the garden. We are like plants. We can't really do much about what happens to us in our lives. We grow up and have some offspring and hope that things work out well for us. Crocodiles are better off since they can dominate their situation. You would think that as smart as we are, we could be more like the crocodile."

"That is why you have a religion," Ita responded, not sure why such an obvious point was missed. "You have a reward for yourself when your struggles are over; that is what your religion is all about. I don't expect to see any crocodiles in heaven when I get there." Ita stopped sweeping, catching a glimpse of a familiar figure on the street below their house. "I think that's your brother coming again. We have some rice we can send with him, like before. We don't have much, but we can share some."

Ahmad entered the living room quickly, without formalities, just like always. "Hello again," he said, not wanting to get into a conversation.

Ita responded deliberately and handed Ahmad a package of rice. "How are Rika and the girls?"

"Oh, they are fine; doing nothing just like me. Dewi has begun working at a discotheque a few nights a week, so she has been bringing home some money."

Bondi thrust a pack of cigarettes into Ahmad's hand. "Any chance your factory will start up again this month," Bondi asked, forcing some cheerfulness into his voice.

"That factory is quiet except for the noise of birds flying around in there. I don't expect anything to happen there until this monetary crisis gets fixed. But I go out every day looking for something to do," Ahmad replied, smiling, obviously stretching the truth. "Thanks again, we are grateful to you for sharing your rice with us."

Bondi watched his brother go down the steps; he spoke as he turned on to street. "Ta, what does a 19-year-old girl like Dewi do in a discotheque?" Bondi asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

"She brings home some money for her family, a family that hasn't had a steady income for over eight months! That's what she does," Ita said, her voice adamant and brittle in order to stifle any further comment.

"There is your crocodile, Pa." Erwin called from his room. He stood in the doorway, finishing his comment: "Dewi doesn't wait for things to happen to her. She knows how to make her own way!" Erwin was smiling, pleased to have surprised his parents with a good point.

"Don't get started again, you two," Ita said, rebuking them both. "Do not make judgments about Dewi or the rest of that family. They are our family too, and we must respect their efforts to cope with not having any income." Ita turned and looked directly into Bondi's eyes with a questioning look. "We are fortunate that your Dad has a good job at the bank. It's a good job that will last," she said, only half believing it.

Bondi returned to his chair and his musing. Erwin followed, wanting to spur the fascinating talk along. "My economics lecturer says this financial crises was created by naive bankers..."

Bondi interrupted, anticipating Erwin's provocative statement. "There is an evil force at work on us -- on all us Indonesian people. We must try to survive until it passes. I wonder if it is the Americans or maybe it is both the Americans and the Japanese. They both have people with brown skin like ours."

Erwin was surprised at his father's uncharacteristically blunt statement. He had never heard such thoughts from him before. Erwin responded reassuringly: "they are not that smart, Pa." Erwin sat next to his father, now eager to pursue a discussion sure to be interesting. "It makes no difference what they love or hate. They can hardly manage their own economies. How could they manage to wreck the Thai, Korean and Indonesian economies, all at the same time? There is an evil force all right, like you say, but it is within us. You could call it greed. In their own ways, the Americans and the Japanese have the same problem. My economics lecturer said ..."

Bondi cut in, not wanting to hear any more theories from Erwin. "Some day, Erwin, you will learn some practical realities at the university. Some superior force has made all those bankers do what they have done. How else can you explain such a gigantic upheaval in these three countries? Until you can really understand these things, you should listen carefully to your father and your mother." Bondi turned away, pointedly terminating the discussion.

Erwin winced, torn between a need to be obedient and a need to express his own thoughts. "Pa," Erwin began, easing around a forbidden topic to one that might go the same direction, but along another path. "You yourself have said the months of student demonstrations were a good thing! The whole point of the demonstrations was to get rid of corruption -- in all forms -- and to reform our political system so we wouldn't have to go through all this again. You said this, didn't you!" Erwin spoke emphatically, risking a confrontation with his father.

"You are correct!" Bondi said, smiling, pleased that the discussion was going his way.

"The students, every one of them, were a good force that came when we needed it! We were blessed, no doubt about it! We have needed reform for a long time. Now we are going to get it. A good force -- the students -- has countered an evil force in our society. We must await the same kind of good force to fix this economic mess. I think I can sense where we will see it first." Bondi paused, wanting to be delicate in expressing an idea he had not articulated before.

"Erwin, watch the military. I am sure it is the force that will fix this economic catastrophe that is hurting everyone now. I am not sure how or when, but I think they will step in before it is too late." Bondi paused again, hoping Erwin would grasp and appreciate his insight.

"Pa!" Erwin stammered, "reform and a more democratic government are what the students fought for and some even died for. This is the force that will make things better. The military is a part of the problem, not a part of the solution!" Erwin fumbled for a way to explain further, frustrated with not having an opportunity to frame his views in his own terms. "Pa, there is no such thing as a military-led democracy! That is what we had with Soeharto! Democracy must be led by people, like you and mum and me and Ahmad and Rika and Dewi! There is no other way!"

Deep down Bondi relished Erwin's frustration. Smiling now, he continued. "Let's talk a little about democracy. Wherever we see a democracy, we see a lot of rich people doing a lot of talking. And in these democracies you still see millions of poor and jobless people, living hopeless lives. Look at America. Every night, there are millions of hungry and homeless people sleeping in the streets. What good is democracy to all these people? Democracy is a rich man's toy and a dirty trick for poor people." Bondi paused, savoring a small triumph of reasoning in their exchange.

Erwin was stung by his father's logic, against which a reasoned response would be useless.

"Pa," Erwin began, feeling inadequate to counter, "don't you want to be able to vote for an honest government and to be able to trust the people who run things? And, don't you want to know that our leaders are not so corrupt that they smell like dead animals?"

"Precisely!" Bondi said, seeking to keep his voice from rising. "That is what the military will give us. They are the most powerful as well as the best educated force in our country. How can we trust the people in Jakarta or the leaders in the provinces to give us reform? It will never happen!" Bondi was smiling broadly again, as sure of his feelings as he ever been. "... And another thing. Regardless of what happens, we need the military to keep peace and to get food to the poor people." Bondi looked at Erwin, searching for a sign that his well-crafted argument was sinking in. "What more do you want," he challenged, handing his son a last chance to defend his faltering position.

Erwin sat quietly, looking deep into his father's eyes, knowing that what he was hearing was a lifetime of searching and sorting and trying to figure how to live a good life. He sensed that what he was hearing was a father's view, one that was molded with love as well as with deep feeling and an indomitable spirit that sought to thrive, despite the torments of things along the way. Almost in tears, he hugged his father.

Bondi pulled back at first, surprised by an unexpected show of affection from Erwin whom he had fully intended to disarm with his arguments. Drawn in by Erwin's childlike hug, Bondi hugged Erwin firmly, "I love you Erwin. You are my son. I am proud of you. Maybe we do not agree on everything, but I love you anyway."

Finally Erwin pulled back and, still close to his father's face, he looked into his dad's eyes again, savoring the closeness they both felt at this moment. Erwin sat back and looked at his Dad, pleased that instinctively, both had risen with strength in an argument, but had pulled back before the struggle of the moment separated them. "Pa, I understand your view. I ask that you give me a chance to have a different idea and a different view." Erwin paused again, looking for another sign of approval. "Are we okay, Pa?"

Bondi shifted over to be close, side by side with his son. He looked at him and smiled expansively, the smile of a proud and loving father. "Yes, we are okay, son."

Erwin wasn't finished; he felt he had a new pact with his Dad, enabling him to speak his mind. "Pa, maybe I am like a crocodile. I will do what must be done. I don't think there is anything that prevents me from doing that."