'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