Letters of a Javanese Princess Part 24

Our roads have divided, but both of us work for the same ideal; what matters it which road one takes if it but leads to the same goal?

I long to go to Holland for many reasons; the first is study, the second is that I want European air to blow upon the few remaining prejudices that still cling to me, so that they may be wholly driven away. There are not many left, it is true, but some obstinately remain. Only your cold air, Stella, can make of me in truth, a free woman. To mention but one of the persistent little prejudices, I should not be disturbed in the least if I were alone in a room filled with European gentlemen. But I can think of nothing, that could make me, under any possible circ.u.mstances, receive alone, even one well-born Javanese young man, who was unmarried. I think it is laughable, absurd, idiotic, but it is true.

I dare not talk to a strange man without a companion, and even if there were company, I should think it tiresome, and should not feel at my ease.

So you see that in spite of my strong ideas of freedom, I cannot get away from the influence of my native environment, which keeps girls strictly secluded. When the idea has been strongly inculcated that it is not modest to show oneself to strange men's eyes, then it is a hard task to break away from it. It must not remain always so, that prejudice must go. How else shall we be able to work together with men? And that is part of our plan. One way in which we hope to accomplish much good.

Only the air of Europe will be potent to separate me from the influence of my Javanese education. Sometimes I laugh at myself and it drives away the foolishness for a little, but it always comes back.

We returned from our journey on the 19th of April. Father came several stations to meet us. He brought a long official telegram from the Resident, which announced that the Heer Van Kol would come to j.a.para the next day. That was a delightful greeting of welcome, and I found something still nicer when I got home--your letter.

All the government officials along the whole line received the orders from the Resident to wait upon the Heer Van Kol as he pa.s.sed through. On Sunday afternoon, at the stroke of three, the travellers arrived. With Van Kol was a journalist, who served him as interpreter and guide, and Father, who had waited for him at the border.

Van Kol had made a resolution never to lodge anywhere except in a hotel, because he knows well the open hospitality of the country. But after he had made the acquaintance of our family, and received a pressing invitation, he stayed with us. Later we heard that it was we who had been responsible for his faithlessness to his resolution. He thought us worthy of scrutiny, he wished to observe the influence of European education on girls of the aristocracy, and could not let the opportunity pa.s.s. Happily we did not hear this till afterwards. The knowledge would have made us constrained and self-conscious.

At the table, he talked almost constantly of his wife and children. It was splendid to hear how this great man honours his wife. He met her through correspondence, a point of resemblance there, Stella. He corresponded with her at first about her literary work. It was only by chance that she discovered her great gift, her talent for writing. She was at that time a governess, and was staying with some friends at a villa on the slope of the Pinanggoengan (their villa now in Prinsenhage is called after that villa "Lali Djiwa"--soul's rest). One of the party must write a description of the place, and they drew lots to decide which one it should be. The lot fell upon her. She sent the article to a magazine and the editor wrote asking her for more.

Van Kol has been to all of the places where he lived and worked in his early days, and the children who formerly played with his daughter, he found mothers themselves when he went back. But he still remembered them and knew them all by their names.

Stella, we were happier that evening with the Heer Van Kol than we have been in a long time.

At first we showed them examples of the artistic work of our people, which called forth expressions of wonder and admiration, and Heer Van Kol made some sketches of them. Some of the company moved away and the chair next to him was empty; I slipped into it.

Then he began, "You have planned to go to Holland? Melchers told me so."

On my answering in the affirmative, he went on, "But it will be difficult for you later, when you come back. The greatest difficulty lies in coming back to the old life."

"Why do you think that?"

He spoke frankly and openly and said, "It would be too difficult for you, if later on, you should marry. After having lived in Holland you would never be able to make yourself contented as the wife of a native chief."

He instanced cases of well educated native girls their friends, who had married Hollanders. They and their husbands were devoted to one another but the Indian cannot be really happy amid European surroundings, and the Hollander can never accustom himself to the Indian life, so there is always an impa.s.sable gulf between husband and wife.

I let him finish quietly, before I brought my own ideas to the light of day; "Mijnheer Van Kol, if I should go to Holland, my intention is to be educated for a profession, that of teaching preferably, and when I come back I plan to open an inst.i.tute for the daughters of native chiefs. It is to study that I wish to go there."

He looked at me in surprise; his blue eyes lighted up as though to himself he said, "That is a fine idea--a very fine idea." Then to me, "Do you not think it splendid to have an object in life?" There was so much enthusiasm in his voice and in the expression of his eyes, that I felt my heart grow warm, involuntarily my lips formed a word, a name "Stella."

Stella, if I could only have you here, but then the earth would be too small to hold my happiness. For that was happiness, that moment when I saw that my plans were understood and respected too, by a superior man like Van Kol. It was like the feeling that mothers must have when they hear their children understood and praised.

He asked if I had talked with Mevrouw Rooseboom. No, I had never had the opportunity; both times I had met her there had been a great company, a ball or a dinner. They seemed to have spoken of us at the palace, because Heer Van Kol told me as soon as he arrived that his Excellency the Governor General had said that he knew me.

Annie Glazer goes on her vacation next month to Batavia and to Buitenzorg. She will go for us to the Abendanons' and tell them all that we have in our hearts; she will go too to our friends at Buitenzorg.

Could I but go with her!

What we have to do is to present a pet.i.tion or something of the kind, which Heer Van Kol will write for us from Batavia. The pet.i.tion will set forth our names, our ages and very briefly what we want to do. And to make sure that he will remember us when he gets to Holland I have at his instigation written to his wife and explained our plans to her.

He was delighted at Roekmini's idea of going to the Art Academy, and also to know that she wished to go through the household school. For indeed it appears that she has not enough talent to ever go very far in her art. He shared our belief that a teacher of Domestic Science could help our people very much. But he is anxious for her to be able to go to the Academy for a few months before she starts on her domestic studies.

He thought it fine that we two should wish to work together and help each other. He said many times over "I think it splendid for you two to want to undertake so much."

I have talked to him about the idea of teaching hygiene and kindred subjects in our schools, and let him understand that I should be glad to take a course in hygiene and nursing, in order to teach them later. He thought that a good idea too.

"In India you could not study that except under great difficulties; in Europe it would be quite easy, there you would have everything under your hand, and you could easily get through in a few years, as you speak and write Dutch very well."

I told him of other reasons why we wished to sojourn for a time in Europe. He sympathized with us there too. And he was one with us in the belief that our ideas would be able to compel a larger following, that we could spread them broadcast, if we worked under the protection of the Government. The Javanese nation is like a great child that loves show and display. It respects everything with which the all powerful Government concerns itself.

We talked of the education, if such it may be called, of the daughters of the n.o.bles. Van Kol knows Regents' wives, and knows of their monotonous dull lives.

It was time that something should be done for Javanese girls; he is the last man with whom I should have to argue about the importance of woman's place in society. He spoke of his own n.o.ble and highly gifted wife with such love and respect. He called her his counsellor and his guiding star.

It touched me deeply to hear this man making himself so small beside his wife. He is small in body, but great in heart and soul. It was delightful to be in his company.

I have been asked to put my ideas in writing in the form of a brochure or letter to the Queen. It would do much good to our cause if she, who is a woman herself, knows of the deep injustice that our women suffer.

But I must know what I am doing. As soon as I let my voice be heard, I know that I shall bring down the anger and hate of many of the Javanese men upon my head.

For myself personally I do not fear their hate or anger, but if I should become a teacher I might have to stand before a cla.s.s without scholars, because no father would trust his children to me. I should have touched the egoism of man.

I have received an answer to my question as to when a Mohammedan girl comes of age. It is "A Mohammedan girl never comes of age. If she wishes to be free, she would have to marry and after that be divorced." So we shall have to declare ourselves of age, and compel the world to recognize our independence.

You know that Van Kol came here with a journalist. He wrote a description of the journey that he made with Van Kol, also the visit to the kaboepaten is described, and something is told of our conversation with Heer Van Kol. Now people will know whither we are going. I only hope that making our ideas public will do good and not harm. For the first time my name would come out openly in connection with my people. I am proud of that Stella--to be named with the same breath with my people.

Keep this portrait in memory of the triple bond. Poor clover leaf, it was too beautiful, so it had to be pulled apart. It is the best portrait that we have; it is good of all of us. It was made at Christmas time and it is our last portrait, taken together as girls. The sight of the little group makes me sorrowful. Three hearts grew together on one stem, and now one of them has been torn away. Will the wound ever heal? It still bleeds at the least touch.

Oh Stella, you do not know how we miss her. Everything reminds us of her--speaks of her. We feel so old now; the past seems to lie behind us like an eternity, and yet a half year has not gone by since she left us.

[1] To Mejuffrouw Zeehandelaar.

x.x.xVIII

_May 26th, 1902._[1]

I have read your last letter over many times; in it you write so sympathetically about the Javanese people. It is very pleasant that you should have such friendly thoughts towards the brown race. If I could only have you here with us there are so many things about my people which I should be glad to show you. Where can one study and learn to understand a people better than in the heart of that people? and here we have a true Javanese environment. You know that all of you would be welcome at any time.

It is charming of you to wish to have me with you, but alas! for the present I may only appreciate your good will. To travel alone to Buitenzorg belongs just now to the realm of forbidden fruit. But who knows when a change may come! So much that seems to us today to be absolutely impossible, appears tomorrow as an accomplished fact. The Javanese are a nation filled with memories and fairy tales, in dreams and fairy tales the most wonderful things happen, and my heart which is Javanese through and through, holds fast to the illusion that there can still be miracles, even as there were in the far distant past.

If you knew of the dreams of some Javanese girls that you know, possibly you might be surprised at them, think them strange, but you would not, I hope, merely shrug your shoulders in pity. You know, do you not, that we are possessed by the idea of going to your country? But you do not know why. What one naturally thinks when one speaks of visiting strange lands, is of seeing and understanding new things, enjoying oneself, and perhaps also of learning accomplishments.

But when we feel so much for the suffering of our people, is it strange then that there should be in us a great longing to do something that will help them? What has that to do with our desire to go to your country? We wish to gather knowledge and bring back to our people the treasures of other lands, of your own country first of all. We do not wish to change the spirit of the native Javanese, but to cultivate the good which is latent in them. That is the goal which we have set before our eyes.

It is such a pity that we live so far from each other. How nice it would be if we could exchange thoughts and ideas. Things can be expressed so much better in spoken than in written words. But our correspondence is very pleasant to me, we meet at so many points. How gladly I should teach you to know and understand my people. A wonder artist must rise up in Java to tell of our race in beautiful words to his fellow countrymen.

Just as Fielding has written of the Burmanese. Now we have only that notorious book by Veth[2] that has brought so many pens into motion, and caused a storm of anger to break forth.