The War

The War

By Sori Siregar

My car came to a halt and the driver, Apin, turned off the
engine. I got out and walked carefully along the muddy alley so
that I would not slip.

Three boys were chasing each other toward my direction. Water
splashed my pants when the boys run past me. They did not care
and kept on chasing one another. A woman craned her neck from a
window and shouted to the boys to stop running when someone is
walking along the narrow street.

I only smiled reminiscing about my childhood days. I walked
slowly. I kept on walking. The alley I passed through cut across
a first, second and third alley. All alleys were similar in size.
They were crowded with dilapidated houses and shanties made of
sacks. Used tires and bricks were clearly visible on the roofs of
several houses to prevent the roofs from being blown away by
strong winds.

When the alley I was walking along cut across the fourth alley
turned slightly to the left, I began to get confused. The map
Idris showed to me in the office was different from the actual
streets. In my confusion someone addressed me. A young man
covering the lower part of his body with a towel on his way home
from bathing in the river looked at me in a friendly way.

After I told him where I was heading for he pointed in the
direction I was supposed to take. I went back to the third alley
I had just cut across. From the intersection of the third alley
I only needed to walk about fifty meters.

It was there, under a mango tree, I saw the young woman
teaching a number of children. It was the "school" Idris
frequently told us about in the office. Idris had campaigned that
we should show our social solidarity by helping such activities.

"There are still a lot of people around us needing help" he
said. Sometimes his words were cutting." What we have in our
hands should not only be spent for ourselves. There is a portion
in it for others".

In order to witness more clearly how the children were
learning in the "school," I took a seat in a small coffee shop
about fifteen meters away. While sipping hot coffee and smoking a
cigarette, I tried to listen to the lesson being taught by the
young woman.

It was a reading lesson. The bigger children seemed to know
how to read, that was the reason why the teacher only repeated
her lesson to the smaller children. Once in a while the teacher
reprimanded the bigger children because they were busy talking to
each other while she taught the smaller children.

Three guys enjoying their coffee in the coffee house paid no
attention at all to the "school" which was a stone throw away
from where they were seated. They talked to one another
enthusiastically, laughed and teased each other using vulgar
language. I guessed that they were inhabitants of this slum.
Idris's information may be right. In this slum lived many kinds
of people; drivers, pickpockets, pedicab drivers, street vendors,
prostitutes and those who earned a living by scraping trash heaps
to find something that could be sold.

Fed up with their increasingly indecent useless chatter, I
left the coffee shop after paying my bill. After a few steps I
stopped and looked back at the children from the "school"
studying under the mango tree. Then I continued walking. I did
not go back to my car straightaway. For half an hour I walked
through the alleys there. When I got back to my car I did not
feel anything in particular.

***

I was having my lunch when Idris came and sat down next to me.
He told me many stories. After carrying-out his duty in a clinic
a young doctor served poor people for free. In addition, the
young doctor also opened his rented house to a number of homeless
children and paid their school fees.

Then another unique story followed. A rich businessman sent
his son to an orphanage to give him the opportunity to understand
what a modest life was like without the guidance of his parents.
Furthermore, the businessman collected leftover bread and other
unused food-stuffs from various hotels for the orphanage and
other childrens' homes. His kindness also extended to almost
every needy family in town.

I liked listening to his stories. Almost everyday he told me
interesting stories. His subjects were always poor people and the
powerless, oppressed, neglected, forgotten, the victims of unfair
treatment and those deprived of their rights.

An eloquent story teller, Idris had tirelessly described it
all to me as if he were asking me to write them in a thick best-
selling book. I was an interested listener. When Idris told the
same stories to my colleagues in the office they also listened
intently with interest. Sometimes in his enthusiasm about his
stories, Idris showed his partisanship. Therefore, he did not
deny it when Desmal said that he was campaigning about social
solidarity to us. He even nodded.

When all of us burst into laughter, Idris joined us, in his
impassioned excitement.

***

Idris who was negotiating with a representative of Elmer
Company from Germany in Mandarin Hotel had not yet showed up. The
negotiation perhaps had been difficult, or Idris was trapped in a
traffic jam.

I was talking to a visitor when the telephone rang.
Enthusiastically Idris made his report. Not about his negotiation
with the representative of the Elmer Company but about a group of
people who came to the House of Representatives.

Their land had been bulldozed without proper compensation. At
the time Idris called me, the group were still waiting to see the
House speaker. Idris said he would wait there until the group
talked to the speaker.

Without commenting I hung up because my visitor needed my
attention. Furthermore, it was in the interests of the company. I
paid no attention when the phone rang again. I was certain it
must be from Idris.

I never imagined that what I had done had been wrongly
interpreted by him. One hour after the call Idris appeared in my
room. He looked upset. I thought he would tell me first the
result of his talk with the representative of the German company
before making his report to the director. I was waiting.

He was still standing in front of me, something he had never
done before when he came to see me.

"How was it ?"

He said nothing and kept staring at me. Failure, I thought. As
a negotiator he had failed in his negotiation with the German
company.

"Negative?" I asked him.

"Yes, negative," he answered sharply. "A working colleague, a
school mate who used to be in poverty and suffered, has now
turned out to be a person who has no heart or feelings".

I was startled. He was no longer teasing but making an
accusation. I never expected such a response. I fell silent.

"Hendar" he continued." I am tired of trying to raise your
awareness. You are untouched by my words. Actually you bear a
grudge against poverty and others' suffering. For you, all of
that is just a normal thing and there is no need to pay attention
to it".

I stared at him coldly. I was not moved to react.

"When you knew Parmin's son died because the company had cut
his medical allowance, you said nothing. You kept on debating
with Agus about the acquisition of a number of businesses. Even,
when I said Parmin fainted because of his son's death, you and
Agus seemed to turn a deaf ear".

I kept on staring at Idris.

"So many times I talked to you about the environment that
needs our attention. But not politics and the business
environment. And you always looked upon them as entertaining
stories. As a matter of fact you have walked too far from your
past. Then, just now when you hung up, I really felt that you are
a complete stranger, a stranger I have never known. I was
seriously disappointed. There is no longer any space in your
heart to see and be sympathetic to others or to do something for
another's world beyond your own world".

I kept silent. Realizing that I was struck dumb by what he had
said, Idris turned and left my room. I shook my head after
pondering for a while. Was it right what Idris had said? No. I
did not believe it. Idris had dramatized everything. It was he
who was the odd person, not me. He had no right to challenge my
stance. After receiving that lecture from Idris I still did not
feel anything. How weird.

After a long silence I came to the conclusion Idris might be
right. Only a terrible internal war inside myself could sharpen
my dull conscience. But such a war never broke out. And, it was
not my fault.