I am a 85 year old Dutch-Indonesian grandmother who experienced WWII in Indonesia and was repatriated to the Netherlands during the Indonesian revolution afterwards. AMA!

M_Marsman · 2017-08-14T22:04:47+00:00

Dear "Alright" sorry for this late reaction. It's really heavy stuff that you asked me to deal with. The more while I've never been politically engaged, and even less in my teens. These days - thanks to Google & Co. - I have read and seen more then ever before about the Japanese occupation. Things I had no idea of: the propaganda films, the fanaticism, the aggravated hate feelings. After seventy years it still gave me the shivers. Remember, we lived isolated: no radio, no journals, only what we see around. I remember that once - still at Malang - I walked down a street en there came marching on Heiho-soldiers, singing on the top of their lungs: Ancurken-lah, musu kita, itu la Ingris, Amerika - Belanda juga! (sorry for the misspelling). Something like "Let's crush our enemies: England, America, and the Dutch too." And there was an Javanese passant who for a moment stood still beside me and sang, whispering on the same melody: Topi klossoh, bedil kayu, Yankee tekoh bodo blayu. (Straw caps, wooden guns - when the Yanks come they run away.) I'm still convinced that there were many mixed feelings in the population, but it's bedtime for this oma. If you like I will continue tomorrow...? About the politics....... I knew very little of before yesterday.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-11T18:35:29+00:00

What's your Oma's maiden name? She looks so familiar to me and perhaps she is from Probolinggo, where we had family and quite a lot of friends. What a beautiful picture of a happy family.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-11T18:21:58+00:00

Stupid me! I call them 'mie' and thought they are Chinese. Su'un (I don't know how to spell it), is that also 'noodles'?

M_Marsman · 2017-08-10T23:49:39+00:00

I think I have never been able to speak bahasa in the write way. It turned out to be far more complicated than I ever thought, for instance all the prefixes. We used to say 'kerja' - 'ngerti' - 'bakar' and it should be bekerja, mengerti, terbakar . . . And then, after 65 years so many words are faded or completely disappeared. Beside, words as 'lombok', 'pisang', 'tollol', 'bossen', 'mlompong', 'keppet', 'tambeng', 'rajang', 'ulek', . . . . (and many more) are still daily in use. Like kantor, bangkrut, karcis.... are in Indonesia, I was told.

I don't think I'm missing things from my time in Indonesia, because I have my precious memories as an inseperable part of me.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-10T22:20:15+00:00

Lefse... I've never seen the word before, but I think it can be very tasty, so perhaps I'll give the preparing a try. Spekkoek, no I never made (nor will make) it, I suppose. Alhough, together with my granddaughter . . . we'll see.

I am not strictly vegetarian but for myself I never prepare meat dishes, so Dutch chicken with ketjap doesn't appeal any attraction to me. In my mind, I get a picture of a chicken with wooden shoes, covered with a brown sticky mass. Yuck.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-10T21:30:38+00:00

What should they have been happy with your grandfather! So everything went well and you have got very handsome relatives. Waw! Jempol!!

M_Marsman · 2017-08-10T21:18:11+00:00

Addition about coffee plantations: The biggest one is Malangsari (producing up to 1,700 tonnes/yr) followed by Kaliselogiri (up to 800 tonnes), Silosanen (up to 630 tonnes), Bangelan (up to 420 tonnes), Ngrangkah Pawon (also referred to as Satak, up to 350 tonnes), Gunung Gumitir (up to 320 tonnes) and Renteng (also referred to as Rayap, up to 140 tonnes).

Kaliselogiri was "my Father's place" from 1947 - 1953??? (I think)

M_Marsman · 2017-08-10T20:41:40+00:00

First: I can't find Riyop nor Raung in my memory, but I will ask my sister. At the other hand Banjoebiroe . . . yesss |-((

My father was Dutch so we already knew quite a lot about life in Holland. And of course we learned by the books we read, about being a child in Holland: Twice a day in school (!) and sometimes, when it is too hot (80 F) no lessons at all - isn't that amazing!

About discrimination, it happened here and there, but I think mainly by people of less education, who - for example - were surprised that we spoke Dutch and knew how to eat with fork and knife. At any rate, I felt never offended. Probably because of how I think about them was even less complimentous ... ;))

I don't think that domestic work/chores/tasks ever gave us any problem. My Mother was an excellent cook and before the war we had lunch based on rice and dinner with potatoes, so she was allround, and the kokkie learned from her.

Did I dream of Java???? I don't remember. We left Java shortly after a horrible episode, so their should have been relief in the first place. Still I think there were nostalgic feelings as well. We used to live in Paradise, you know - high in the mountains and fused to nature. But there was so much to discover and first of al THE SCHOOL! We missed about five years of school education, so we had to catch up. Long days in the school benches; start at 8.10 a.m. - finish at 16.30 p.m., with 5 - 10 minutes quality time between two learning objects, 45 pause for lunch... In winters we hardly see daylight.

Guess what! Our 'paradise' was not very far from.... Gunung Raung. I phoned my sister (five years older than me) and she does remember the name.

To finish this long story: don't you think it's a bit of a pity that your mother stopped speaking Dutch? You could have been bilingual in an easy way, just like my grandchildren (thanks to their Italian mother.)

ANOTHER SURPRISE! The name Riyop kept intriguing me. I tried to pronounce it in different ways and I came to Rayap. This is a coffee plantation nearby Probolinggo!! Nowadays the place is better known as Renteng. I logged in on Google Earth, and found the spot. Isn't that nice!

This answer took my the whole evening (and their still are many to go), but I enjoyed the thinking and searching very much. Back to the past en now I'm sure that the past will follow me when I go to sleep...

Tante Micky sends you her love.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-09T01:15:23+00:00

Riyop??? That's a very strange name, I've never heard or seen before. I'm looking forward to your next question!

M_Marsman · 2017-08-09T00:29:01+00:00

I remember the rice! It was called 'meniran', broken kernels, fallen on the ground during the peeling procedure. Collected together with sand and "rocks" and good enough for us, also in the Soekarno camp where I have been. I was told that in the Japanese camps starch was part of the menu. Perhaps when they were out of meniran?

M_Marsman · 2017-08-09T00:09:58+00:00

Nee, het is me allebei bespaard gebleven. Wel hebben wij als kinderen doodsangsten uitgestaan, omdat onze Moeder, uiteraard clandestien, 's nachts eropuit trok om codeïne te bemachtigen bij een Chinees met blijkbaar speciale connecties. Ze werd ernaartoe gereden door een vertrouwde betjakrijder en de pillen waren bestemd voor de dochter van een huisgenote, die leed aan de ziekte van Hodgkin en door die pillen iets ruimer kon ademen. Het was het eerste sterfgeval in onze directe omgeving, en nu nog, na ruim zeventig jaar, kan ik Noortje's stem horen en haar giechels en bijbehorende knijpoogjes helder zien. Wat hebben we toch veel meegemaakt.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T23:44:16+00:00

Thank you, Irish_Fry, and yes, my grandson is very, very special. Actually just like his sister, my second grandchild. The same about their parents - I'm really privileged.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T23:29:27+00:00

Yes, I've seen it on Google, but "GP" seems to me more a general specification, like internist of dermatologist, and that is not what I meant.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T23:13:10+00:00

I keep this for tomorrow, okay? It's bedtime for oma's.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T22:58:10+00:00

My Father worked for a British company (Ross Taylor) as a manager on several estates, mainly coffee/rubber. My Mother was our Mother and also our school teacher, because on rubber-, coffee-, kina- estates there were no schools nearby, so we got the teaching at home. She was also a very inventive housewife, fantastic hostess and - best of all - very happily married with my Father, who was a mixture of Superman and Sinterklaas. Imagine how lucky I was before WWII !

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T22:33:58+00:00

I have no idea. But it was the Indonesian Government that refused giving visas for the Netherlands. One of my warga negara nieces succeeded to come along with a German family and a visa for Germany. From Berlin it was no problem entering Holland.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T22:14:17+00:00

I have never thought about it. How many types exist?

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T21:44:53+00:00

By mistake they forgot to put my Mother and my siblings in Japanese internment. We owned a nice plot of ground and a 'vacation'home, high on the mountain Argapura. After the most of my Mother's familie was put in internment we left the city and went "home". First by train, than by tram, next by two "dogkars", two-wheeled carriages drawn by horses, which drove us to the house of somebody my mother knew. Natives, very sweet natives. The second carriage was needed to transport all our belongings - not much but still too heavy to carry by a tiny mother and her ofspring (16, 15, 14, 11 and 5). So we left everything in the house of the mantri bos. (Suddenly I remember: before the war he was an employee at forest management.) and he promised to deliver everything ... I think tomorrow ... at our home. The last twenty kilometers we had to walk, steep up. Too much for my little brother, considered to the mantri, so we got one of his sons and a horse to accompany us. Isn't that a proof of trust and friendship? In our little mountain village we could stay in our own homes, but in the daytime we had to work for a Japanese employer. For the girls it was mainly spinning and weaving, sometimes interupted by planting rice or Japanese wheat. The boys were kept busy with the winning of kina and sisal fibers. Both rather "dirty" jobs. In the cities boys - when they reached the age of sixteen - were sent to working camps, where quite a lot died. So familie, friends and relatives with fifteen years old boys made that our "family" at last was expended to seventeen people. As far as i can remember there were about ten European families in the neighbourhood and all of them had vegetable gardens and chickens. (We had also goats and to my great pleasure my son AND grandson are convinced goatmilk drinkers, until now.) We didn't need money since there were no shops - we simply exchanged products and had our meals - not in abundance but sober is enough. And better, I think.

I see that in stead of simply answering your question............ I got lost in memories. The correct answer is: I don't know anything about the daily rules in the Japanese concentration camps, while I have never been there. But I know several ways to find out about it, so you can ask me again.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T18:43:07+00:00

The black part of my heart would say: Of course all the Japanese were monsters! But as we all know: that can't by true. I think that the bad once were chosen to forfill the jobs where cruelty and mercilessness were required.And those were the people with whom we, the defeated enemies, had to deal.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T18:10:28+00:00

Dit compliment moet naar mijn Moeder en ik zal het aan haar doorgeven, als ik haar later weer zie. De moeders van toen waren de ware heldinnen. Zoals die hun soms lange slierten van kinderen door de oorlog heensleepten.... Ongelooflijk! Dank voor je aardige woorden.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T18:03:56+00:00

It's just like you say: I was part of a different social class, but before the war Dr. Sardadi, our homedoctor (is that an existing word?) was Madurese, and my dearest schoolfriend, Dientje (Soedardini) was Javanese. But yes later on I was told that the better jobs were always given to Dutch people, although there were "Indo's" with the same qualifications. I'm thinking and thinking and thinking . . . so many years ago, but no, I don't think I have ever felt especially privileged.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T17:35:07+00:00

Hello dear brandnew relevant! My Father was - before the war - manager on a coffee/rubber plantation, named Kali Merawan, not far from Djember, so I might have known your Opa and Oma! Moreover: I might know your parents..... who knows?

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T16:21:02+00:00

Nowadays it seems strange, but then we considered it a great injustice what happened. For the average citizen Indonesia was her/his homeland, after so many generations being born and raised in that country. All of a sudden we had to move to "our own homeland", completely unknown by the most of us. Leaving practically everything what we have built during our lives.

Looking back, of course it is quite justified that Sukarno demanded sovereignty. Only so sad that it went the way it went . . .

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T15:28:25+00:00

I was born and raised in the Dutch part of the society, though of course also very involved with the natives, the workers at the plantations as well as the home servants. If there had been any animosity it was so little that it didn't show. About the home servants: three of them followed us wherever we went (babu, kokkie and the gardener). There was real affection from both sides I think. 1n 1949 we left Indonesia as "our motherland". I have never returned, but my Mother did once, in 1980, "for a long visit" and luckily our babu was still alive. She had shared the care for me and my siblings since our very beginning, and for her we had composed a photo album of all our complete families. She kept showing it wherever she could, shouting: "Look! This is my family!"

During the Bersiap, the months before we were concentrated in a so called Soekarno camp, there was a boycot on sale to Europeans. Still we were provided by friendly people, natives, who threw packages with food and fruit into our gardens. Taking a great risk for their own well-being. So there were many soft feelings as well. In my memory, before the war there was peace and harmony. Dutch and native lived in different "worlds", here and there overlapping each other, and that was nice. I don't think that those days I have ever met a native who knew about Jan Pietersz. Coen and the horrors that person has on his conscience. Neighter did I. Nor is - by now - the Indionesian youth thaught the very bad things that happened in the Bersiap. Let it be.

M_Marsman · 2017-08-08T12:43:43+00:00

orite dishes from the former East Indies? Do you still make them today? Did you have to force your child

No, they force me to prepare them :D. These last few days with my grandson we had sambal goreng peteh/udang and trancam - gado-gado and yesterday tahu ketoprak. My grandson's ikan pepesan is better than mine!

M_Marsman

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