'Mbok' Nah turns 60

'Mbok' Nah turns 60

By Lea Pamungkas

For the past two weeks Mbok Nah had been feeling perplexed. It wasn't that she was no longer strong enough to carry the basket of jamu, even though she had just turned 60. Her jamu still sold well. After all she was still the buxom Mbok Nah, who was adept at cajoling the becak drivers and the laboring bricklayers.

"Oh, go on, Mas. This is so your body remains strong, so that your wife at home continues to feel satisfied. Just give it a try first. You'll be proud of the results, for sure." Or, "Yes, that's right Jeng, my husband is twenty years younger than me. But simply because of this tightening jamu sari rapet potion, every day I become tighter. And this jamu makes one's body slim and fragrant. Men don't like body odor. When that happens, we're in trouble."

Her sales pitch worked. Every morning her customers waited patiently for her wares. The effectiveness of Mbok Nah's jamu sari rapet, male strengthening kuat majun, and slimming galian singset potions had gained people's trust. Her customers would often succumb to giggling as they reported back to her their testimonials. When that happened, Mbok Nah would sigh a prayer of thanksgiving in her heart, and would be reminded of her mother's words: "Apparently it's you, girl, who has inherited your ancestors' skill of making jamu. You will help many people."

Mbok Nah believed that she did help a lot of people. None of her customers had divorced, taken a new wife, or taken a new husband. All had long lasting marriages, all were calm and happy. "Thank God," Mbok Nah would sigh to herself.

What caused Mbok Nah's perplexity was, Mas Marno, her own Bima's thumbnail. Mbok Nah's heart would flip. Her beloved Mas Marno would often begin plying his becak quite late in the day. But in fact, he would already be dressed very early in the morning. His hair would already be sticky and shiny with Pomade. He would already be wearing his cut-off jeans. Even his becak would be waiting at the curb. And his clear, childish face would already be looking ahead.

"Lho, aren't you gone yet, Mas? You won't be in time to take the little children to school," Mbok Nah would chide him gently. The coffee and fried bananas that she prepared would already be finished.

"Yes, in a little while, Nah," answered Marno every morning, even when Mbok Nah hadn't said anything.

Mbok Nah couldn't wait until Marno had gone. She herself had her customers' schedules to respect. Mbakyu Surti had requested that she come at six before she had to leave to do her washing. It was the same with Jeng Sri, Zus Marni, Nok Wasti, Mbakyu Menuk. Mbok Nah also had a new regular customer who had requested that she bring her jamu at eight and wake her up at the same time.

"It's because ikke works at night, Mbok. Ikke is a career woman. And it's so difficult to wake up early, but ikke will be embarrassed if the neighbors know," the new customer had told her. The customer was coy and flirtatious, and her name was Meri.

"Ah, you don't have to use the jeng prefix. That's so village like. It's Meri, Okay Mbok Nah. Plain Meri," she had 0insisted.

Meri had rented a room across the alley from Mbok Nah two weeks ago. After serving her other customers, Mbok Nah would stop by at Meri's place before doing her daily chores. But Mbok Nah would often be held back in Meri's room, which was fragrant with the smell of powder and filled with stacks of colorful underwear. Even though there were lots of things Mbok Nah couldn't grasp, Meri's stories always managed to hold her back.

"Meri has a bit of wind, Mbok, because last night Meri had a long date in the park. Many people came. Eee, the men were so big, Mbok. Here, have a look," and Meri would show the red marks on her neck. "Ay, they were hot. Hee hee."

Mbok Nah would smile. But often she would feel overwhelmed, so much so that she too would chatter on about her own experiences with her former husband and with Mas Marno. She never forgot to promote her jamu. As a result, orders began to flow in from Meri: sari rapet three times a day, galian singset four times a day, also some kuat majun. She would say it was for her boyfriend, but Mbok Nah would often see Meri drinking the potions herself.

Meri had a heavy schedule. In the daytime she would wear a kebaya, carrying with her a wooden box strung across with three rubber bands. Meri would sing from warung to warung. At night she would give off a strong fragrance, leave her back bare and pair her top with a very short skirt. The young boys would tease her. Meri would simply smile. She liked it.

Mbok Nah didn't pay any heed to the neighborhood gossips, who said Meri's real name was Rukman. Mbok Nah also didn't want to think about whether her jamu would be of any use to Meri. Didn't her turnover show a sharp increase because of Meri? And anyway, it was Mas Marno's behavior that took up most of Mbok Nah's thoughts these days.

Every time Mbok Nah reached Meri's rented room, Marno would be sitting there in a daze. He would smile in embarrassment upon seeing Mbok Nah knocking on Meri's door. A wave of affection would wash over her on seeing Marno's smile. Then Meri would come out.

"Hallo, Mbok Nah. Daag Mas Marno." It was like that every morning. Mbok Nah didn't have a clue what happened after that. She should go from alleyway to alleyway plying her trade. What she knew for sure was that Mas Marno's income in the past two weeks had shown a big drop. Mbok Nah had had to get loans to buy food and to purchase the extra ingredients for her jamu.

One night, just before dawn, a knock on the door gave Mbok Nah and Marno a start.

"Mbok, help! Mbok, help." Meri cried, her heavy voice sounding pitiful.

"What is it, Miss? What's the matter?" replied Mbok Nah, her myopic eyes trying to discern Meri's pail face in the dim light of the kerosene lamp.

"Mbok, Meri..." Before Meri could continue, she had vomited.

"Come in, Miss, come in." Mbok Nah and Marno helped Meri into the house.

"No! Meri's ashamed towards Mas Marno. Ugh!" Meri began to vomit again. "Can we just go to Meri's room, Mbok?" pleaded Meri. Mbok Nah complied.

Mbok Nah massaged Meri's nape. "Meri's pregnant, Mbok. Jeri's late three days. Meri has cravings. Meri will soon have a baby," Meri insisted. Mbok Nah was overcome with pity. Meri had a high fever, and she continued to blabber. Mbok Nah massaged her and covered Meri's body with beras kencur poultice. Mari's thin body looked pitiful. Mbok Nah didn't give a whit as to whether it was Rukman or Meri that she was massaging. A soft feeling grew in her heart.

"Thank God, even though it is not through jamu, that these hands can still help Meri," said Mbok Nah while patting the poultice on Meri's bony chest.

Mbok Nah and Marno were extra busy the following week. They prepared jamu, made food, rubbed Meri with a coin and gave her massages.

"Mbok, a thousand thanks. Meri has no one else. A thousand thanks," Meri would cry, while holding tightly onto Mbok Nah's hand.

At other times, right in the middle of vomiting, she would begin to giggle. "Mbok make me a jamu to strengthen my pregnancy. So that Meri's baby will be strong, like Ferry, the father. Mbok, you are going to have a grandchild."

When Meri began on that track, Mbok Nah's chest would begin to feel heavy. She'd start to cry, grieving for Meri, grieving for her own memories: she, too, once cradled hopes of having a little child.

Meri's sickness was worse than either Mbok Nah or Marno thought. Meri began to blabber on more and more about a baby. Mbok Nah was concerned, and Marno became even more careful in his administration towards Meri. Certain neighbors sympathized with Mbok Nah's sincerity in helping Meri, while others preferred to make fun of it.

One day, Meri began to recover. Her face began to shine once again, and her flirtatiousness returned as her blabber about a baby disappeared. Mbok Nah gave a sigh of thanksgiving and Marno was overcome with joy. Now Mbok Nah was free to ply her jamu once more.

Meri's recovery was enough for Mbok Nah. Meri turned out to be a very active and strong person. She was a good cook, she chopped wood and she helped boil Mbok Nah's jamu mixtures. In the mornings, a cup of hot coffee would be waiting for Mbok Nah. Come afternoon, Mari would prepare hot rice, chili terasi sambal and specially prepared salted fish.

Many children would come to the house, saying they wanted to learn to sing from Meri. More often than not they made fun of her, and Meri could be heard giggling more than she could be heard singing. Mbok Nah felt she had found the child that had never come forth from her womb. It didn't matter that sometimes, in front of her very eyes, Marno and Meri would begin to pinch each other or play with each other's feet under the table. Marno's shy smile, Meri's income from her singing, and Meri's shocking stories, these were things that Mbok Nah could hardly wait for every afternoon upon coming home from selling her jamu.

Arriving home one afternoon, Mbok Nah saw Marno's becak parked under the jambu kelutuk tree in front of the house. The roof was covered by dry leaves. From the back room she could hear Marno's voice and Meri's voice. Sounds that reminded Mbok Nah of her own nights with Marno.

Mbok Nah was dazed. Very carefully she put down her basket of jamu. The clink of the bottles, the splashing of the liquids inside them, and the sound of the cloth sling rubbing against the rattan basket jeered Mbok Nah's ears. Something held her back. She turned and stood in front of the window. Her eyes roamed. The woven split bamboo walls of her house looked fragile and shabby. The front porch looked shaky and caked with dirt. Her gaze fell to her dark, wrinkled hands. Mbok Nah breathed in a long sigh.

Late that night when the sound of the night watchman's bamboo pole had already been struck twice, Mbok Nah was still waiting for Marno. All she could hear was the sound of snoring in the next room. The cry of the night bird, a bad omen, shook Mbok Nah with fright.

The next morning Mbok Nah felt changed. This was a new feeling, more then what she had felt when she had got married. It was something like the feeling that had come over her when her mother had told her it was she who had inherited the jamu making skills of her ancestors. Her mind was clear. Mbok Nah felt glad upon hearing the sound of liquids being poured into a bottle, and when her nostrils filled with the smell of her jamu potions boiling. From the bathroom she could hear Mas Marno singing softly to himself. Her calmness felt strange.

Meri was busy putting the jamu bottles into the basket, and Mas Marno's hair was wet. Both smiled in embarrassment. Mbok Nah didn't say a thing. She downed her coffee and left.

"So, si Meri is staying with Mbok Nah now?" pried Jeng Sri. Mbok Nah nodded, while pretending to busy herself cleaning out the honey bottle. "It's too good for her, Mbok. Does she pay you rent for staying at Mbok's house?"

"But she's very diligent, Jeng. She is kind and very active," Mbok answered shortly.Mbok Nah didn't feel like staying long, and she asked to leave as soon as Jeng Sri had finished drinking her jamu.

Meri moving into Mbok Nah's house had apparently become the talk of the neighborhood. Mbok Nah had only now begun to realize this. Before, the neighbors had acted as if they understood the circumstances. Maybe it was because Meri was so sick. But no longer. Nonplused after her conversation with Jeng Sri, Mbok Nah wanted to cancel her stopover at Pak Sape'i's warung where she could see a line of customers waiting for her. Mbok Nah didn't feel like meeting anybody today.

"What has gotten into your head, Mbok Nah? Can't you see si Meri's behavior with Mas Marno? Has Mbok Nah turned senile already? Is Mas Marno out of his mind, or what? Taking on a transvestite as a mistress?" blabbed Mbakyu Surti, well-known for being forthright.

"She's a kind kid and very diligent, Mbakyu. I like having her around. I don't have the heart, she's all alone, no home to go to," replied Mbok Nah.

All afternoon, from alleyway to alleyway, Mbok couldn't get what happened the night before out of her head. A heavy rain forced her to take shelter. Approaching dusk, Mbok Nah could still be found sheltering under the eaves of a shop. Even after the rain had ceased, Mbok Nah was reluctant to go home. Mari had probably warmed up the rice twice by now.

When she could no longer quell her hunger, Mbok Nah made her way home. This time Mas Marno's becak was not in the front yard. From the direction of the kitchen came the sounds of a pan being put down, and the smell of frying fish.

"Mbok, look, Meri found a carp at the market. It was given by Bang Tarip. Here, let Meri fry it for Mbok." Meri was her warm, talkative self. Mbok Nah smiled, and Meri continued to chatter on while Mbok Nah ate. Mbok Nah sucked deeply on the fish's fins and tail. Meri looked on with pride.

"Miss, aren't you eating too?" said Mbok Nah with a start.

"There's only one fish, Mbok. Let Meri buy some tempe later on," she replied, clearing up the bones. Mbok Nah was ill at ease. She took out an egg from her basket.

"Here, Miss. Take this instead. Also one for Mas Marno."

Without waiting for Meri's reply, Mbok Nah went into the room. Her body felt warm, and she was sleepy. She no longer felt a need to wait up for Mas Marno.

Mbok Nah woke up when she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door. Mbok Nah thought it was Mas Marno, and was confused. She had no idea of what to say. She wasn't sure whether she should be angry about what happened yesterday afternoon. If she pretended to be mad, it would be quite wrong. But if she did not say anything, that wouldn't be right either. In the end, Mbok Nah simply waited.

"Mbok, Meri has brought you some jamu pegel linu for tired bones. Mbok must be tired. Here, let Meri give Mbok a massage," Mari insisted as she put down a glass on the table. Without waiting for an answer, Meri's rough and strong hands had begun to work on Mbok Nah's legs and feet.

"Mbok, about yesterday afternoon." Meri sounded nervous and at a loss for words. "Meri. Ugh, it's like this, Mbok. Please excuse me. Mas Marno, Meri..."

"It's alright, it's alright. Go to sleep," said Mbok Nah, half asleep herself.

As dawn approached, Mbok Nah woke up with a start.

"Oh, Jeng Marni has just given birth and she's put in an order for jamu," said Mbok Nah out loud. She had just remembered the order. It looked like Marno had come home, his clothes were hanging on the nail behind the door. Some pieces of cold martabak omelette were left on the table.

Munching on a piece of martabak, Mbok Nah stepped outside. The door of the back room was slightly ajar. She could see Meri fast asleep, her face still caked with makeup. Near her armpit Marno was curled in the fetal position.

"Oh, the children are all asleep," she whispered to herself, tying the knot in her hair that had slipped.

Translated by Debra H. Yatim

The short story Mbok Nah Turns 60 first appeared in Kompas daily in July 1994 and in Laki-Laki Yang Kawin Dengan Peri: Cerpen Pilihan Kompas 1995 (The Man who Married A Fairy: An Anthology of Kompas Short Stories 1995). It is printed here by courtesy of the Kompas daily.

Note: Mbok = Javanese for mother jamu = traditional herbal medicines becak = pedicab Mas = Javanese form of address for older men sari rapet = a jamu potion believed to enhance a woman's sexual performance because it tightens the vagina kuat majun = a jamu potion believed to strengthen a male's sexual capability galian singset = slimming jamu potion Bima's thumbnail = another name for kuat madun Jeng = Javanese form of address for younger women Zus = from Dutch, to address adult women Nok = Javanese form of address for young girls Mbakyu = Javanese form of intimate address for elder women ikke = from Dutch, meaning I warung = stall daag = Dutch for goodbye/hello beras kencur = jamu potion made of rice and kencur (Kaempheria galanga) sambal terasi = grounded fresh chili mixed with terasi (shrimp paste) tempe = fermented soybean cake pegel linu = sore and tired martabak = delicacies made of egg and flour