Translated from Sundanese into English by Josephine Natania.
2003
Last Sunday, I went to a bookstore along with my daughter. Since few
days ago, she kept nagging me to buy her a small pink note. When I asked what
that was for, she shortly answered, “Certainly for note.” At the same time I
also wanted to look for books, so I just followed her will.
The
girl looked very happy in the bookstore. She moved here and there. It was
rather difficult to follow her and open every book she pointed at. Instead of
the note, she looked for story books to read though she had not read fluently.
As
quietly taking a look at books, I saw someone standing motionless at the side
of the shelf. A middle-age woman. I felt that this woman looked at me all the
time, but I was not sure whether she did that on purpose or it was just my
feeling.
A
while later, there was a pat on my shoulder.
“Silang?”
I did
not say a word for a moment. My eyes stared at the woman who patted my
shoulder. I tried to remember the word “Silang”. Unconsciously I gave a reply.
“Sigeu?”
She
smiled while giving her hand to greet. I felt a deep longing in my heart. I
wanted to hug her, but it would be such impudence considering that she was a
woman and this place was busy.
To be
called a middle-age woman was appropriate for her, but her appearance would
dumbfounded every woman whose age was as same as hers. Grey hairs were seen
here and there on her head, however the hair style was up to date and a kind of
hair cover, but not a jilbab[1],
was hanging over her shoulder. She wore loose clothes and pantaloons. From the
way she dressed, she looked like Indira Gandhi.
We
greeted for a longer time than people usually took. We hold each other’s hands
firmly.
“What
are you doing here?” she asked.
“Looking
for books, of course. Not mixed noodle[2],
isn’t it?”
She
giggled at hearing my joke. I never forgot her favorite food, mixed noodle.
“With
whom did you go here?” she asked once more.
“My child.”
“Your
grandchild?”
I
gave no reply, but just asked my daughter to greet her.
“C’mon.
Greet this aunty.”
“Is this
the youngest? How many children do you have? Where’s the mother?”
“She’s
at home. We asked her to come along, but she refused. Many clothes to wash, she
said.”
We
chatted pleasantly while still following my daughter to choose books.
After
finishing the payment, the three of us went out of the bookstore. Sigeu
directly invited me to go to a restaurant selling mixed noodle.
“Your
likeness doesn’t change, does it?”
She smiled.
I
noticed her plastic bag to see what she bought back there.
“What
books did you buy?”
“No.
I just bought oil paints.”
“Wow.
So you’re a painter now?”
She
laughed. “No. This is for my grandchild.”
I
always like to see her eating mixed noodle. She ate, she slurped, and she blew
with open mouth to feel the noodle’s hot taste.
“How
old was your grandchild?”
“He’s
big, a junior high student, and this child is the youngest?”
“The
oldest and the youngest for now. She’s still the only one.”
“Being
economical?”
“It’s
not like that. Me and my wife planned to have children since the beginning, but
this girl was the one we got. Geu, I’d been married for 23 years without a
child for 7 years. This girl is 7 years old now.”
“Yours’
blunt?”
“Ah,
I don’t know. I’ve been so thankful to God for being trusted to have a child.”
The girl
whom we were talking about was still eating her noodle calmly.
“Geu,
how about you? How many children do you have?”
“I
have many, but the true ones are only three. I’ve also had grandchildren from
the youngest.”
“Are
there the untrue children?” I was confused.
“It’s
not untrue. What I mean is nursing children. I helped some street children to
school.”
“Wow,
that’s so generous of you.”
We
did not speak each other again for quiet a moment. I concentrated to finish my
noodle. Once or twice I wiped my daughter’s wet hand with tissues. Sigeu also
paid attention to her bowl.
“Lang,
did you dye your hair?” It looks the same as before,” she finally broke the
silence.
“Alhamdulilah no. It’s still the true
color. I’m not familiar with hair dyeing.”
“It
still looks the same, you know. So does your hair style. That’s what reminded
me of you. I don’t forget that since I used to see you from behind.”
“To
be honest, I wouldn’t recognize you, Geu, if you didn’t ask me first. Your body
seems larger.”
She
laughed once again.
“My
weight has been decreasing. Four years ago, it was heavier. Well, as we all
know, the older the woman is, the richer she will be. Rich in weight.” She
grinned.
Because
the girl continually touched me with her index finger to ask to go home, we
could not talk for a long time. Actually, I really missed her. We parted after
giving each other’s phone numbers and email addresses. Then she went by taxi,
while I and my daughter went home by angkot[3].
At
night, I checked my email. I preferred checking email at night for the simple
two reasons. One, I could use computer without any disturbance from the little
one. Two, probably the connection would be much faster since it was night time
and less people used it. The emails came in great numbers, mostly from
Urangsunda mailing list, and there was one more email from panyeumpxxx@yahoo.com. Who’s this? I
thought for a second, I had no friends with an address like that. I decided to
open it. Ah, it was Sigeu. I intentionally printed her email so that I could
read it comfortably by lying on my back.
From:
panyeumpxxx@yahoo.com
Sent:
13 Oct 2003 22.43
Subject:
Remember the old times
Lang, do you know? I wrote this email completely
naked. About 8 o’clock I stood naked in front of a mirror. Hair untrimmed,
plain face. That’s the real image of me. I gazed at my own body.
As I looked at it, I felt as if I had read about
honesty. Every line had its own story from the past. From the hair above until
the nails below. I could see my behaviors clearly since being a child till becoming
an adult right now. It’s like watching movie scenes with the fast rewind or
slow rewind. It’s all clearly shown from the smallest little part until the
biggest ones. Sometimes I laughed at my own behaviors.
My stomach seemed lumpy, but not muscles. The smooth
thighs disappeared, replaced by fat. Sigh. Why did I feel embarrassed to have a
body like this … or why did I dislike my body because it was rumpled? What kind
of identity do I have?
Many voices that I heard said that I was skinny or I
was fat. Why was I only seen because of what I looked like? Why are we
surrounded by perfect figures on TV, in the newspaper, magazine, on bag and
wallet? Why does appearance become the most important thing for a person? And
why were there people who wanted to get close to me just because I’m a woman,
an object?
When I was still young (not that I want to be young
forever), there were many men who tried to get my attention. Either singles or
widows, even there’s one who was a general. I was free to choose. A karate
expert with an athletic slender body, a short man with two cars, young men who
just graduated from college, a hotel owner, or a villa owner in Puncak.
I neither knew why they chased me nor asked them. All
I saw was they seemed very happy when they went out with me. Maybe it’s like
walking with an angel. Who didn’t know this missy in this town? A beautiful
young lady who had a Mercy and was successful in her business?
A sudden idea then crossed my mind as I looked at my
shadow in the mirror. How about taking a nude picture of me? It could be useful
to compare my body in the past and present. I regretted that I didn’t have any nude
photographs when I was a little. There’s only one picture when I was 3 years
old without wearing any clothes on. If
I’m not mistaken, it’s taken by my deceased dad after I took a bath. I was
insisted by my mom to take a bath and my dad made a joke of it instead. I had
no memory of that moment so my mom told it. Well, I think that picture seemed
having no difference with the other childhood pictures.
Men used to stare my smooth stomach skin when I swam
at the hotel pool 30 years ago. The same stomach ever protruded because of
pregnancy. The same skin ever felt the pleasure of … adultery.
Lang, do you remember when I called for you to come to
the hotel before we separated? Do you know why I asked you to meet me in the
room 26? I searched a room with the number of 26 on purpose since my age was 26
at that time. What I meant was 2nd floor, 6th room.
You knocked the door and greeted, “Assalamualaikum.” I
was quite surprised to hear your voice. My mind went blank and I had no idea
whether to reply your greeting or just open the door. I knew that a greeting
must’ve been replied, yet it’d been a long time since the last time I said that
kind of greeting. Therefore I just opened the door.
You looked around the room, searching for a chair to
sit. I sat on the bed. The room was small. There’s a chair actually but my bag
and some books of Chinese kungfu stories had a seat on it.
I was firmly holding a book with the title “Telaga
Darah”. You grinned and said, “Watch out. That’s a porn book.”
I replied nothing. Yes, I knew that’s a porn book and
to be honest, I was reading the most intimate part. I was ashamed to hear your
remark, so I thrown the book away. The next thing I did was pouring out
drinking water to a glass and giving it to you.
We had a conversation until the clock struck midnight.
Then you asked to leave. You know, I wanted you to stay over. I wanted to sleep
with you.
I didn’t know, I didn’t understand why I did have that
kind of thought and intention. Probably it’s because I’d been a widower for too
long. From the heart, I wanted to give you a sweet memory before we parted.
But, ah just forget it.
However I couldn’t tell you about my desire as you
kept talking about poetry and short stories that I read on my radio show. I
felt unwillingness to do an aggressive way first, even my heart told me that
you’re a man without understanding of woman.
After you left, I just sat by myself. My desire to
continue the reading was all gone. I cried. Crying for something I didn’t
understand. All I knew was my heart was so painful.
Sigeu’s email
was long. From the beginning till the end, it told her life stories. In the
last part, she wrote this.
I had many grandchildren now. There’s a new baby girl
from my youngest child who just born last week. She’s so cute and pretty. Her
skin was still reddish. I must have been reddish too when I was a newborn baby.
Lang, the truth was, all of them was my stepchildren
and step grandchildren. I never had a child. They’re all the general’s
children. I took care of them when their mother passed away after giving birth
to the youngest.
Well, that’s all from me now. I’m sleepy. Miss our
chatting moments like before.
As the dawn
almost came, I wrote a reply.
From: heuxxx@hotmail.com
Sent:
13 Oct 2003 22.43
Subject:
Re: Remember the old times
Geu … had the door been
locked? It’s better to lock the door before being naked lest a male cat got in.
It could be fatal. A male cat can be wild sometimes. Hmmm or is it a hen that
becomes wild when it lays eggs? A male cat can throw himself upon his prey and
scratch with his sharp claws. Never have mercy upon rats. (Kidding =b)
If I’m not mistaken,
there’s a saying of “your body is your jail.” Had no idea what kind of jail
that is. Another said that your body is the machine of lust, the other said
that your body …. ah whatever. I wasn’t interested in this discussion about our
body. I didn’t care my body is good-shaped or bad-shaped as long as it is
healthy. As another saying goes, “your body is your soul”, I preferred that
than the first one.
Geu, do you know? (as
you said). Before replying your email, I browsed the internet, searching for a
picture of 56-year-old woman who was … naked! Whoa, there were sooo many, even there’s one who was a woman of 80!
Good heavens! I couldn’t stand grey hairs on the armpits =(
It’s unexpectedly
beyond my imagination that there were old people who were willing to show off
their nudity to be seen by hundreds of eyes. So, it’s true then, the internet
really provides everything we wanted to know. That’s how it’s called virtual
world, world of freedom. Either the good, the better, the best or the worse, the
worst, and the worst were all there.
(I’m sorry, Geu … for
shaping the image of you in my mind through this old model. Probably you’re not
very different from her hehehe … with grey hairs.)
The day before
yesterday, sometimes I remembered the times passed by. My memory of you never
changed. You’re still a woman of youth, beauty, cheerfulness, and smartness.
When we met again yesterday and I saw you, that’s when I realized that you’d
changed. I’d changed too.
We didn’t meet for
almost 30 years. It’s not a short period of time, was it? I became an old man,
you became an old woman. (Geu, how did your grandchildren call you?Nini[4],
Ené[5],
Eyang[6],
or Oma? Mmmm Oma is impossible. That word came from Dutch language, right ?)
I only naked by the
time I took a bath. I also never did an observation on my body. Just took a
bath and finished, that’s all. I’m afraid that if I did a close observation, my
hair would’ve stood on end (but I wouldn’t tell what made my hair like that
lest it called monkey’s tail).
That’s all for now,
Geu. Unless I stop talking now, I guessed I could talk obscenely. Miss those
moments too.
Si Belang
She did not reply my email.
1972
Every Saturday night, I would like to listen to the radio while lying in
my back to have some rest in my boarding room. I searched for a female
announcer … and that was what I got. In a radio station, there was a female
announcer who was reading a poem. After that, she fluently narrated the content
of the poem. The poems reading on that show were mostly teenage poem with love
as the main topic.
I
faithfully listened to the show every week and one time I encouraged myself to
call that female announcer when she was in the state of off air. I opened our
conversation with telling her a poem she ever read and the next thing I did was
introducing myself. I said that I wanted to meet and know her.
By
the time we finally met, I asked her name, yet she didn’t give her real name.
Therefore I also did the same. At that time, I wore a stripped T-shirt, so she
called me Si Belang[7] or
Silang. I called her Si Geulis or Sigeu.
She
is beautiful, that is true. That was why I called her Si Geulis[8].
She is tall, 3cm taller than me. Her body is plump and her face almost looked
like a movie star whom I forgot the name was. One thing for sure, her face is a
beautiful Sundanese face.
If
there is who called me Silang, it has to be her and so does on the other hand.
How
we address ourselves is really various. It can be kuring-uing[9],
di dinya-ilaing[10],
even sometimes ana-énté[11].
Although she is older than me, she did not consider that I had to respect her.
She was 26 while I was 23 at the first time we met.
We
kept meeting each other for more than a year and then we separated because I
had to work out of Java Island. That evening, I met her in the room 26 in a
hotel. She gave me a special pen for a memento.
“If you wrote a letter to me, you had to use this pen. This pen had a
certain mark which only I who knew that. It’s different with any other pens.
Unless you wrote with this, I wouldn’t reply your letter.”
Nevertheless,
the pen was lost in just a few days. As a result I used another pen, an
ordinary one. No more letters came since then only proved that her threat was
not just a joke.
2004
I
received an email from her again. It was just a short message.
“Lang, I’m going to make a pilgrimage to Mecca. Pray
for me, ok? Please forgive me for all mistakes I’d made, either you felt it or
not. Had you become a hajj? If not, better do some savings from now. Ah, but it’s
also my oldest stepson who afford me to go there.”
I read her email
several times with a thankful heart. “May she be safe. May God accept her
devotion and she become a hajjah[12],”
I prayed sincerely.
When she came
back later from Mecca, maybe she would still wear a hair cover as usual or
changed it into wearing jilbab or maybe
her grey hairs would be replaced by the color of hair dye.
I gave no reply this time. I intended to come
and meet her personally later on after she came back from her pilgrimage. I
also wanted to question her about one thing. In her first email, she mentioned
that she was ever pregnant, but still in the same email she said that she had
no children of her own.
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