Ulcer

By Lucia Esti Elihami

"You are possessed," said the bearded dukun, the magic healer, dressed all in black.

"You must quickly apologize to the occupant of the grave through his or her relatives. Now I will treat you with a magic spell." His voice sounded so grave.

After remaining silent for several minutes, the healer, who was known as mbah (grandfather), rubbed his hands in the air just above Sapar's ulcer, mumbling something unintelligible.

The smoke from the burning incense, which smelled like horse's urine, billowed through the small, somber room.

"This is the medicine for you to take at home for seven nights. And don't forget to wash your ulcer with the rooster's blood. After a week, the sore will be completely healed, if you truly have trust in me."

"Yes, mbah, thanks a lot," said Sapar as he put a Rp 50,000 bank note and two packs of clove cigarettes on the healer's table. He got dressed.

"See you again, mbah. Bye."

Sapar had suffered from the appalling ulcer for a month. It had started one night when Sapar returned home from his work as a security guard at the administration office. He passed a Chinese cemetery, which was located on a hill near his village.

From quite a distance away, Sapar saw a young couple tiptoeing into the cemetery complex. He was curious and went after them. To avoid alerting them to his presence, Sapar ran from one tree to the next.

He saw the young people stop and rest behind a huge gravestone. They spread used newspapers on the grave, lay on them and began a leisurely conversation.

Suddenly the man, who looked like a university student, started to undress his partner. Sapar patiently watched the scene and all the following intimate acts. He came to himself only when the tryst finished and the couple grabbed their clothes.

It was now the right time for Sapar to jump out of his hiding place and catch the couple. Wielding a club and handcuffs, Sapar did not have difficulty in holding them. He ordered the young couple to follow him to the residence of the hamlet chief.

On another night, Sapar landed another big catch after he saw a couple arriving in a pedicab near the same cemetery. He watched their sometimes bizarre sex games, and then escorted the two to the guard post.

Later on, Sapar was sometimes accompanied by young villagers as he kept watch at the cemetery.

"No, Kang, I don't want to do those strange things," complained Inah, Sapar's wife. "They are disgusting. Don't ask me to do them. I don't understand why you are now so crazy about these perverted ways."

Inah did not know that her husband was driven by curiosity about the acts he witnessed in the cemetery.

"Common, 'Nah, there is no problem with new styles. You'll get complete satisfaction," Sapar insisted to his wife.

Inah did not know what to do. She did not mind serving him in bed daily, but not with these strange positions.

But her husband had threatened to divorce her if she remained stubborn. Inah loved Sapar, who had given her two children, so deeply.

But she was also tired of her husband's overactive sexual imagination.

One night, Sapar came home limping. He said he had just caught another couple sleeping on a grave, but before he could arrest them he had stumbled over weeds and hurt his leg.

The wound got worse and ulcerated in the next few days. It was not very big, but it hurt and smelled foul. The decomposing body of a cat would have smelled better.

An elderly neighbor advised him to use particular leaves to cure the ulcer, but they did not work. Another neighbor had also told him to use herbal medicine from Kalimantan, brought from the island by his nephew who worked there as a forestry expert. The neighbor said the medicine had the power to cure any kind of wound, even snake bites.

So many well-wishers came to see Sapar with their advice, and the guard took them all seriously. But it was all to no avail.

How about consulting traditional healers or Chinese medicine men? He had done it, but the condition of his ulcer was still bad. Many fellow villagers expressed sympathy for him because, in their eyes, Sapar was the last bastion of public morality.

Worse still, Sapar could not afford to go to a doctor, at least until local residents raised funds for him.

"Consult a doctor, who knows you may be a diabetic," said a better educated neighbor. To a doctor he went, but the physician also failed to help. He only prescribed salve, which was not effective for the stubborn ulcer.

Sapar then went to a dermatologist. He needed to consult the specialist in skin and sexual conditions because lately he had frequented the cheap bordellos located behind his office.

He had been forced into sleeping with prostitutes since Inah had kept rejecting his advances.

The dermatologist said Sapar was free of any sexually transmitted diseases. The diagnosis did nothing to help cure the ulcer, which smelled even worse. People said it smelled like a bundle of dead rats.

When fellow workers passed Sapar's guard post, they closed their noses with their handkerchiefs. Sapar was so ashamed he dared not show his face.

One day, the chief called him to find out whether it was true what other employees said about dead rats scattered around.

"I don't want to work as long as the bad smell is still in the air," one had said.

Sapar was insulted. He immediately met the boss and asked for a long leave. He got what he wanted and the chief was relieved. The ulcer was now so bad that Sapar decided to stay at home.

But several days later, Sapar went to see the dukun magic healer, the person he had refused to see because he did not believe in any of them. But who knew anymore?

"Inah, bring me the blood of the cock I have slaughtered," he told his wife the day after he consulted the dukun.

Inah was always at her husband's service, although each time she cleaned his ulcer she had to go into the backyard to vomit from disgust.

"Do you believe the blood will cure your ulcer,Kang?" Inah asked Sapar with apparent doubt.

But her husband was following all the healer's instructions to the letter. After he got the address of the relatives of the grave occupant from the cemetery guard, Sapar went to see them.

Arriving at the gate of the house, Sapar was met by angry dogs, who seemed lured by the odor of his ulcer. Some people came to the scene, but no sooner did they come close to Sapar than they closed their noses and mouths.

But on hearing Sapar's story, the hosts had to try hard to stifle their laughter. They said their grandfather would not have been angered by Sapar's experience because he was a herbal medicine man.

On the final day of his medication, Sapar awoke with a sense of relief. Later in the day he went to see neighbors felling trees in a nearby year.

"Do you feel better, Kang Sapar?" asked a young man.

"Yes, I do."

From the odor he brought with him, the people could tell how healthy he was. But they said nothing.

"What will you do with the logs?" Sapar asked to keep the conversation going.

"We'll sell them."

"Can I help you?" Sapar said.

Before the villagers could say anything, Sapar grasped a saw and started to fell a tree. After felling two trees, Sapar turned his saw on his own leg and sawed it off.

All the people present shouted in shock. Blood was everywhere. A woman carrying food and drinks fainted.

Sapar smiled triumphantly. With the help of a piece of wood, he bowed, picked up the amputated leg and threw it away.

But his smile did not last long. He realized the stench was still in the air.

Glossary:

Kang is a Sundanese and Javanese respectful address for older brothers, a husband or other males.

Translated by TIS

The author is a kindergarten teacher in Tangerang, West Java. Her works have also been published in Suara Pembaruan afternoon daily.