Reading a novel by
Pramoedya Ananta Toer, a famous writer from Indonesia (nothing more I can say about his biography except that he passed away around 2006), titled '
Child of All Nations' or in Indonesian,
Anak Segala Bangsa. I remember that my mom has his book in Dutch version which maybe published around 1980s?. While I mentioned this book, it made me think, why is it titled Child of All Nations? I wondered, if there are more around hundreds? (I'm not sure) nations in this world, can one be conceived from parents that has combinations of races and cultures from all the nations around the world? (Just checked and turns out there are 195 nations at the moment.)
This thought leads me to a conversation I had with my friend,
Vic. Indeed, a person who has the experience of studying in foreign countries tends to have a (slightly?) more open mind view compared to person who are traped in its own culture and language, even worse, a person who never traveled anywhere inside his/ her own country. A person who study foreign language and culture without having the opportunity to experience the foreign life and yet having no passion to explore its own country, its own culture. Him who does not know about his own people, no matter how many languages he speaks. Which reminds me about two things. An Indonesian idiom, 'Gajah di sebrang lautan nampak, tapi semut di ujung mata tidak terlihat' or to be translated in English, '
You can see the elephant across the sea, yet an ant in front of your eyes is invisible'. This idiom is usually used to describe a person who always point out at other persons fault while he/ she's not aware at his/ her own mistakes. I think this quote also applies to the case I mentioned above. The second thing that comes to my mind is a sentence in the book, it said that, the higher someone study, it should not turn him to be an arrogant, yet it should remind him that there are more things to be learn, things that we still don't know; a reminder for someone to be humble.
After I read this note again, this might looks like an irony when I myself here writes in English, while my native language is Indonesia. I guess a part of me want this note to be read by people who don't speak Indonesian, so that they can understand a bit about Indonesia.
Anyway, the actual reason why I started to write this note is because, when there is a scene when
Mingke (the main character int his novel) finally goes down to the lower class people, through a ride using traditional train with his mother-in-law and an Indo (mix race between Netherlander and Indonesian) journalist. Mingke felt challenged since this journalist accused him that since Mingke is always writing in Dutch (Mingke is half college student and part-time journalist as well that time), he never write in his own people language, which is still Malay, or the region language, Javanese, on that time. Indonesian languange has not been found yet. This decision indicates that Mingke might not know well about his own Javanese people, yet he claims he knows a lot about his people and even more the European (especially Netherland people whom on that time invades Indonesia. The trip that Mingke has reminds me of my own trip when I was still on the elementary school I think, with my mother, to Malang, East Java, Indonesia. My mother was born there on 1959, and so my grandfather and most relatives still stay in Malang on that time.
When we departed to Malang, we ride an Economy class train. It was maybe the cheapest class of train that still allows you to sit in the real chair, with 2-2 colums train, with sit made of fade green synthetic leather.
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An example of economy train |
I remember that the train stop at every region from Bandung to Surabaya. If I'm not wrong, It was an 15 hours train. And every time it stops, the 'pedagang asongan', or the hawkers, would ride on the train and sell their stuff, ranging from traditional foods to daily amenity stuff that can be sold in small cheap amount.
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Hawkers on the train :) |
At that time I thought it was the only train that is available to connect Bandung-Jakarta trip, until when we arrived at Malang and then one of the relatives asks how did we get there, on that time I came to know that it was not the only type of train available. I remember I ask my mother why did we choose to ride that train? The hop-in-hop-off seller is very disturbing, we cannot sleep well and it always stop at the small station. Not to mention that the train does not have air-conditioner, and it only has a small window which you can open to let the outside breeze comes in so that people do not faint inside the train. And don't imagine that at that time economy train in Indonesia is like economy train Japan where everything is clean and people might have showered at least before they traveled. My mom said that it was meant to be a part of my learning, so that I came to know about small people although I guess it was also because my mom need to save some money since my father has passed away on that time, leaving very small amount of money for us to live. When we came back to Bandung from Malang, this time we ride the executive train, which equipt with air-conditioner and straight does to Bandung, stopping only in big stations (around 5 stations only compared to the previous train that we rode which stops at at least 15 stations).
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An example of executive train |
Another thought that popped in my mind, is that, finally after a long time I started to write something that is meaningful again. Thanks to the Pramoedya's book :) I remember one time I spoke with my uncle's mother, and I said, I think you should write a book, because her stories about when Indonesia's fight towards gaining their independence, or about kids that she taught fascinated me. She's a retired high school teacher, and
in my own opinion, person whose job is a teacher, a real passionate one, is one of them who holds a lot of wisdom. A lot of knowledge. A person who does an act, and usually they evaluate those acts, resulting in some conclusion about life, a wisdom, that is useful to be shared. This note is meant to be a part of my life story book someday when I died. Particularly at this moment I fell that I can write and write, but the fire itself is not the most important thing is how we live our life. Another important thing is to know when to stop, and when to start again; to keep the fire steady and never dies no matter what we face in our life, unless our brain does not work anymore. On that time I have to give up :) So, till' another time!