Never underestimate the address books

By Myra Sidharta

JAKARTA (JP): A friend once asked me which book I would bring if I was exiled to a remote island and was allowed only one book. I couldn't decide which one to bring because I have so many favorite books, but my daughter was very quick with her answer.

"My address book, of course," she said.

"Why?" asked the friend, "are you going to write letters to all your friends?"

"Of course not," she snapped back, "I assume that I can bring my mobile phone and I can call them from time to time."

We all laughed, because she is a jet-setting yuppie who always has her hand phone stuck to one ear. But this incident reminded me that address books shouldn't be underestimated.

Whatever the size, its value is unsurpassed. It is a tool of the modern person living in a big city, or at least people who have links to them. In villages, people don't need address books, they have all the addresses in their heads.

Villagers will tell you someone lives near the banyan tree, or in the house with the white gate, or in the one with a durian tree in the front yard. They may also say that the house is west of the market or south of the mosque.

Similarly, you will surely have less difficulty finding a house than an address in the Kebayoran area in Jakarta. However, neighbors may not know the name of the person you are looking for, because women are usually referred to as the "the wife of so and so" and men as "the father of si Jangkung (the tall one), or si Gendut (the fat one)" or some other nickname.

But modern Indonesians don't want to waste their memories on such trivial things. They carry their "filofax" or some electronic device everywhere.

This is a step ahead of my friend Nuniek, who owns four address books. She knows exactly in which book an address is stored, but never bothers to memorize an address itself. When she is not at home, she calls home and instructs her maid what book to look in.

I found out how important an address book is when my old one became full and I had to start a new one. I had waited a long time before changing it, because it was difficult for me to part with the old one which had been so useful.

Filling the new one became an even more emotional affair, because it was a trip down memory lane. Many people didn't have to be moved into the new book because they had died. Others where not included because I didn't speak to them anymore. Even among the best of people relationships can sour.

Actually only some parts of my address book were full. The Q section only had one name, Queeny. But Queeny died a few years ago, so the new is empty. It will probably be filled with the S's because most Indonesian names start with S, followed by "u" for Javanese names and "i" for Batak names.

Sometimes there are three persons with exactly the same name, like Sumantri or Rudy. Which one are they? The hairstylist or the husband of Emmy? All these have to be clarified, or else you may call the wrong person. I add little notes to the names, like the boring one or "the male chauvinist pig".

Some people have strange living habits. My other daughter, for instance, moved house nine times from the time she started studying in the United States until she finally settled down with her husband. They are now looking for another house because, with three children, their present house is getting too small. This nomadic life style caused my old address book to carry at least six of her old addresses. My 91-year-old aunt complained her old legs couldn't keep up with her grand niece.

I wouldn't have told this story if another friend had not told me about his experience with an address book. Not his own, but one that he found in a telephone booth in Singapore Changi Airport.

This friend, Tunggal, intended to bring the book to the lost and found desk, but read it first. The owner had not written his name in the book, but many of the addresses were of Indonesians Tunggal knew. Tunggal decided to take the book with him to Germany and ask around once back in Indonesia to find the book's owner.

All night in the plane, he tried to figure out who the owner was. Because there were so many mutual friends in it, Tunggal came up with three names by the end of his trip.

Later, he happened to overhear a girl tell her friend at a party that her father was very upset because he had recently lost his address book at the airport in Singapore. All his addresses and phone numbers were lost. He was so desperate, that he called the Indonesian Embassy in Singapore as well as Singapore Airlines and anyone else he thought might be able to help.

Tunggal then proudly told the girl he had found the address book and he bragged how smart he was that he had been able to recognize it as her father's book. "Tell your father that he can get back the book, but he has to tell me who these beautiful girls are by the names of Theresita from Manila, Brigitte from Swedia, Claudine from Paris..."

Tunggal's dreams of blackmail were shattered the next day when a dark man with long, heavy eyebrows and a big mustache called on him.

"So you have Mr. Aliandu's address book?" the man asked.

His voice was so stern and his appearance so frightening, that Tunggal thought he was a preman and quickly gave him the book.

"Thank you," said the man, "My boss will certainly be happy. Since he lost the book, I have been in constant trouble. He has scolded me every day, every single day, betul pak, tidak bohong."

Off he went, leaving Tunggal gasping. So this guy wasn't a thug after all. Tunggal dreams of blackmailing Aliandu were shattered. He immediately regretted not photocopying the book, or at least jotting down a few of the phone numbers.