Never underestimate the address books

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.