[1]To Mevrouw de Booij-Boissevain.
[1]To Mevrouw de Booij-Boissevain.
[2]"May the God of springtime spread,Roses before your feet,May the God of love lead andKeep you gentle, true and good!Bloom in your father's garden,Bloom at your mother's side,The loveliest flower on earth to them,Thou little blossom of May!"
[2]
"May the God of springtime spread,Roses before your feet,May the God of love lead andKeep you gentle, true and good!
Bloom in your father's garden,Bloom at your mother's side,The loveliest flower on earth to them,Thou little blossom of May!"
1st of August, 1901.[1]
We Javanese cannot live without flowers and sweet odours. The native flowers in their splendour awaken in me a world of thought and feeling whenever I breathe in their perfume. Days afterwards it lives in my memory, and I feel the strong Javanese blood coursing through my veins. Oh soul of my people, that used to be too beautiful, that was full of kindness, poetry, gentleness and modesty—what has become of you? What have time and slothfulness not made of you?
It is so often said that we are more European than Javanese in our hearts. Sad thought! We know that we are impregnated with European ideas and feelings—but the blood, the Javanese blood that flows live and warm through our veins, can never die. We feel it in the smell of incense and in the perfume of flowers, in the tones of the gamelan, in the sighing of the wind through the tops of the cocoa-nut trees, the cooing of the turtle doves, the whistling of the fields of ripened rice, in the pounding of the haddi-blokken[2]at the time of the rice harvest.
Not for nothing have we passed our whole lives amid surroundings where everything depends upon form; we have learned the emptiness of those forms, their lack of meaning and of substance; there is much good in the Javanese people. We are so anxious for you to admire our people. When I see something fine, some trait of character, that is peculiarly Javanese, then I think "How glad I should be if Mevrouw A. were with us. She would be pleased at this thing, would appreciate it, she who has wide open eyes for everything that is noble."
Our little Javanese woodcarver-artist as you call him, has made something very beautiful with the whole wajanghistory[3]carved upon it. Wajang figures on the cover, on the outside and inside both, and on all four walls. There is a case designed to protect it, which is also ornamented with wajang figures. The box is lined with orange satin, which is gathered and pleated, and it is set off by a silver rim, also of native workmanship. Indeed it ought to be very beautiful, for it is designed to hold the portraits of the Regents of Java and Madeira, which the queen has ordered sent to her. This mark of homage is a pretty idea. The Regent of Garoat ordered the box and I was given free play. I might spend as much as I liked for both objects.
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon.
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon.
[2]In Java the rice is beaten from the husks by great wooden mortars. The pounding noise made by these on the sawahs (rice fields) at the time of the harvest produces a monotonous cadence.
[2]In Java the rice is beaten from the husks by great wooden mortars. The pounding noise made by these on the sawahs (rice fields) at the time of the harvest produces a monotonous cadence.
[3]Wajang is the Javanese drama, it is very ancient and in the 9th century was already a traditional institution in its present form. It presents always the romantic legends or sagas of the Island, though some of the stories are versions of those in Hindu mythology and were introduced after the Hindu occupation of Java. There are three principal forms of wajang, the most common is the wajang kĕlitik or little wajangs, puppets made of leather. The master of the show or delang manipulates the strings and recites the lines behind the scenes. Sometimes the performances last from 7.30 in the evening until 6 in the morning. The wajang topeng or lyric drama existed in the year 1000 and probably earlier. The performers are men and women wearing grotesque masks. Animal masks such as tigers, elephants, wild boars, birds, etc., are often worn. In the presence of royalty the actors play unmasked.The wajang beber is of very early origin and is a shadow play, shadows of marionettes being shown through a white cloth.At the time of the Mohammedan conquest in the 15th century and after the forcible conversion of the Javanese to Mohammedanism, an effort was made to change the wajangs to conform with the Mohammedan law which forbade the representation of human beings, hence the introduction of the grotesque contorted masks still in use.Wajang performances are always accompanied by gamelan music, explanatory verse and a chorus with chants.
[3]Wajang is the Javanese drama, it is very ancient and in the 9th century was already a traditional institution in its present form. It presents always the romantic legends or sagas of the Island, though some of the stories are versions of those in Hindu mythology and were introduced after the Hindu occupation of Java. There are three principal forms of wajang, the most common is the wajang kĕlitik or little wajangs, puppets made of leather. The master of the show or delang manipulates the strings and recites the lines behind the scenes. Sometimes the performances last from 7.30 in the evening until 6 in the morning. The wajang topeng or lyric drama existed in the year 1000 and probably earlier. The performers are men and women wearing grotesque masks. Animal masks such as tigers, elephants, wild boars, birds, etc., are often worn. In the presence of royalty the actors play unmasked.
The wajang beber is of very early origin and is a shadow play, shadows of marionettes being shown through a white cloth.
At the time of the Mohammedan conquest in the 15th century and after the forcible conversion of the Javanese to Mohammedanism, an effort was made to change the wajangs to conform with the Mohammedan law which forbade the representation of human beings, hence the introduction of the grotesque contorted masks still in use.
Wajang performances are always accompanied by gamelan music, explanatory verse and a chorus with chants.
August 19, 1901.[1]
You must have thought it ungracious of me to remain silent for so long after your charming letter and your goodness in sending the dear kiekje, which I have enjoyed so much. The silence has not been from lack of appreciation, but because the one wholly sound Kartini had all of her time taken up with the little sick sisters. It was so warm, it was not hard to exaggerate a little indisposition, so that we could not help spoiling our invalids. Just now one of the pairs of eyes which I have seen so troubled, peeped over my shoulder and read this. Child, child, what do you gain by it? The children will never hear any praise from me, I assure you. But what am I doing now—speaking ill of my dear little sisters?
Nothing is impossible in this world. What we look upon today as an impossibility, tomorrow may be an accomplished fact.
There is a restlessness in our native civilization, the spirit of progress is moving among us. It is strongly combated by the inherent love which the Javanese has for the ancient "laws." There will be a hard fight before these hoary ideas and customs shall be deeply buried in the ground, never again to rise.
[1]To Mevrouw H.G. de Booij-Boissevain.
[1]To Mevrouw H.G. de Booij-Boissevain.
August, 1901.[1]
I should be so glad, so happy, if I could be in a position to lead children's hearts, to form little characters, to awaken young minds, to help to mould the women of the future who will be able to carry forward enlightenment like a torch. There is much misery in our Javanese woman's world, there has always been so much suffering, so much bitterness.
The only road which lies open to a Javanese girl, and above all to one of noble birth, is marriage.
From far and near we know of the horrible misery of the woman caused by certain Mohammedan institutions that are so easy for the man, but oh, so bitterly hard and miserable for her.
"She soon grows accustomed to it, she finds that it is nothing," say the wise men, and then "We should have no more peace if we put such ideas into her head."
Let me, a child of Java, nourished at her breast, who has lived here all her life, assure you that the native women have honest, simple hearts that can feel and suffer as well as the most delicate, sensitive woman's heart in your country.
But here there is a suppressed suffering which consumes itself. For she feels herself powerless and defenceless through her ignorance and inexperience.
The old traditions speak. Fatima's bridegroom takes a new wife and she is asked by the prophet what she feels: "Nothing, Father, nothing," she declared. And while saying this she leaned against a banana tree; the leaves, formerly fresh and green, withered, and the trunk against which her body rested shrivelled into ashes.
Again the Father asked her what she felt and she said, "Nothing, Father, nothing."
The Father gave her a raw egg and bade her hold it against her heart; he asked her to give it back to him, he broke it open and the egg was cooked.
The Eastern woman's heart has not changed. Many think it an honour to tolerate with unmoved countenances the one or more women their husbands have brought home, but do not ask what is hidden behind that iron mask, or what the walls of their dwellings could tell when the eyes of the world are removed. There are so many burning women's hearts, with poor, innocent, suffering, childlike souls.
And it was the misery that I saw, even in my childish years, that first awakened in me the desire to fight against these time-honoured customs, and substitute justice for old tradition.
Our work will have a two-fold aim, first to help to enlighten all our people, and secondly to raise up our sisters, so that they may live and be treated as human beings. To all of you who have sympathy for Java, and the Javanese, we send an urgent prayer—help us to realize our ideals; they mean so much to our people and to our sex.
Raise the Javanese woman, educate her heart and her understanding, and you will have splendid workers to co-operate with you in your noble work, your giant's work, the work of civilizing and enlightening a whole nation.
Teach her a trade, so that she will no longer be powerless when her guardians command her to contract a marriage which will inevitably plunge her and whatever children she may have into misery.
The only escape from such conditions is for the girl herself to learn to be independent.
There is no one yet who does it, who dares do it.
It is a disgrace for a girl not to marry, to remain an unprotected woman.
Our idea is to open, as soon as we have the means, an institute for the daughters of Native chiefs, where they will be fitted for practical life and will be taught as well the things which elevate the spirit, and ennoble the mind.
Would such a school succeed? We are bold enough to answer "Yes." Many of the native chiefs send their daughters to school now, but it is only for the accomplishments, and not because they expect it to be of any practical use; or of real benefit to the woman herself. Still that does not minimize the importance of the fact that more and more, they are educating their daughters. The many government and private schools can testify to the truth of this. Even the Emperor of Solo sends his daughters to school.
In progressive Preanger, where the education of girls is no new thing, a special school for daughters of the nobles, subsidized by the Government, has been opened. There are even Regents' daughters who go to a domestic school in a strange place!
Then there are many parents who would like to send their daughters to school, yet refuse to send them where they would have to study with boys. The expense of having a governess is far beyond the means of an ordinary native magistrate, only a few are able to afford it. No wedona who has not an independent fortune can keep a governess for his little daughter.
There was a young mother who asked her husband on the last day of her life as a dying request, to carry out one of her dreams, which was, as soon as he should be in better circumstances, to send her little daughter to the European school.
We have talked over this question, and also the idea of an independent self-supporting woman, many times with the wives of native chiefs, and all of them have strengthened us in our belief that some one is only needed to take the first step; to set the example, and then the path will have been opened and others will follow it. There are many girls who think and feel as we and who would be glad to break the bonds in which the Mohammedan law holds them cloistered. But they remain quiescent before that "There is no one now who does it."
There must be some one to be first.
There is a native chief who sought permission from the Director of Education for his daughter to enter the medical school. Thrice blessed Father—thrice blessed daughter! she will be of great service to her country. I hope that she will be able to carry out her intentions.
A younger sister of mine, Roekmini, has a great love for painting and it is her wish to be able to study at the Art Academy, so that later she may work for the development of our native art. Does not a people's art go hand in hand with a people's civilization? And if she found that the Art Academy was not the place for her, that she had not sufficient talent, then she could go to the Household School and later teach the future women the worth of money, which would be a very useful thing for our people.
My sister and I should then be able to work together. And what we are most anxious to have taught in our future schools is hygiene, and a knowledge of sanitation and nursing. Hygiene and nursing should be part of one's education. So many misfortunes could have been averted or at least reduced to a minimum, if every one, men, as well as women, had been taught something of this useful study.
It is not in the least our intention to try to make European-Javanese of the Javanese by giving them liberal educations; our idea is to develop the fine qualities that are peculiar to their race; to help them to gain by contact with another civilization, not to the detraction of their own, but to its enoblement.
I enjoyed your introduction so much to "The Land and People of Java." It warmed my heart to read the charming manner in which the beauty of my country was pictured and its wonder places described.
Often an overpowering feeling of happiness comes over us, when we are out in God's free nature. Far from the doings of little souled men, alone with nature; above our heads the blue heavens and at our feet the unfathomable sea, behind us waving cocoanut palms. Oh! who would not be happy amid such surroundings?
Sometimes I am betrayed into an egotistical thought, "Oh, let me live alone in this pure atmosphere, far from the noise of the market place, from worldly cares, alone with nature, and with my own soul!" That is pure egoism! it is not the voice of life, we are meant to live with and for humanity. But I have kept you too long already; you have other and more useful things to do than to read all this prattle from a "sentimental" Javanese girl.
[1]To Mevrouw Van Kol.
[1]To Mevrouw Van Kol.
September 4, 1901.[1]
We will not, we cannot believe that our lives will be only commonplace and monotonous like the lives of thousands of others before us, and as will be those of thousands of those who come after us! and yet any other destiny seems so improbable. Only once the fulfilment of our nearest and dearest wishes seemed near; now it is unattainably far away.
There are hours when the tortured human heart, torn with doubt, cries, "My God, what is my duty?" Seeing two duties which directly oppose and antagonize one another. Yet how can two things that are diametrically opposed be called by the same name?
"Stay," says a voice behind me, "surrender your own wishes and longings to the will of him who is dear to you, and to whom you are dear; the struggle has been good, for it has served to strengthen and ennoble your own spirit. Stay!" And then again, I hear another voice ever loud and clear, which says: "Go, work for the realization of your ideals; work for the future; work for the good of thousands who are bent beneath the yoke of unjust laws, who have a false conception of good and evil. Go suffer and fight. Your work will be for all time!" Which is the higher duty, the first or the last?
There are not many people in the world, never mind how closely they may be bound together by ties of blood, who love and understand one another as do my Father and I. There is much resemblance in our characters. We sympathize in everything with each other; there is only one point where we differ. Oh, why that one, why? Is it true, what is told us, that in the whole of wide, wide nature no two things are absolutely alike?
Father has borne so patiently with all my caprices; I have never heard a harsh or bitter word from his lips. He is always loving, always gentle. Through everything I feel his great love. Some time ago when I pressed him for a decision, he looked at me so sorrowfully, it was as if his sad eyes asked, "Are you in such haste to leave me, child?"
I turned away my head; I did not wish to see the dear true eyes; I wanted to be strong and not weak.
My heart almost broke once, when, as we two stood opposed to each other, father clasped me in his arms, and in a voice trembling with emotion said, "Must it be so, child? Is there no other way? Must it be?" And we stayed there, heart pressed to heart, looking into each other's eyes.
That was a heavy time, as heavy as a time can well be on this earth. It was shortly before Father's illness. Later, when father was recovering, Mother said to me, "Ah, child, give in to him."
"I cannot," I answered in a choking voice.
Since then Mother has never spoken about it to me. But when Father gives his consent, she will not withhold hers. She is all love and tenderness towards us, but that only makes the struggle the harder.
Pain nothing but pain, is all that we have brought to those true loving hearts.
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon
30th September, 1901.[1]
In Preanger there are a great many women and girls who have been to school, and who speak Dutch. Most of those whose acquaintance we made talked Dutch with us because we do not know each other's language.[2]Strange! that we should make an agreeable acquaintance with people of our own country, and of kindred race by means of a foreign tongue. Our intercourse was cordial, free and unrestrained. They are a cheerful people, full of jest and merriment.
I have many things in my mind. Sometimes my fingers itch so to write down my thoughts, to be able to throw them in the faces of the multitude.
But what good would that do? People would shrug their shoulders, some of them would laugh, and most of them would take no notice whatever. One might as well be an idiot or a simpleton.
Perhaps it is better so, for who knows what harm a pen might do in the hands of an inexperienced, uncomprehending hothead.
Now after that tirade, something that you will think pleasant.
A short while ago the Quarteros, with another Comptroller, were at our house. The gentlemen were speaking of a Regent whom the strange comptroller knew well. "A fine man," we heard him say, and then, "No, he is not married, except to a woman whom he cannot present, just an ordinary woman of the people by whom he has several children. He does not intend to marry; he will marry no Raden-Ajoe because then he would have to send the woman away, or relegate her to a second place, in either case making her miserable, and he will not do that."
My heart leapt when I heard that. Then there is indeed such an one! Splendid!
Mevrouw Quartero told us afterwards that both she and her husband glanced quickly at us, thinking at the same time, "Should the girls have heard that, how he will rise in their esteem?" So it is, too. We hope fervently that the Regent will always remain of the same mind, and that he will never be turned aside from his good resolution.
It would be a great pleasure to us to make his acquaintance; we hope that we may some day.
The young guard, regardless of sex, should band themselves together. We can each of us do something unaided, towards the uplifting and civilizing of our people, but if we were united our strength would be multiplied many times. By working together we could gather a goodly store of fruit.
In union there is strength, and power.
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon.
[1]To Mevrouw Abendanon.
[2]In the Preanger Regencies Sundanese is spoken; it bears the same relation to Javanese that Scotch did to English in the 17th century.
[2]In the Preanger Regencies Sundanese is spoken; it bears the same relation to Javanese that Scotch did to English in the 17th century.
October 11, 1901.[1]
And now dear friend, I am going to speak of myself and give you in strictest confidence some idea of our plans. As doctors, accoucheuses, writers, teachers or artists, we could gain our own independence and at the same time work for the good of our fellow countrymen. All these ways now stand open to us and there are others too in which we could be independent. But we do not desire them, because we would only be working for ourselves, and not for our people.
What could we do for them if we were apothecaries' assistants, book-keepers, telegraph operators, clerks in an office or something of that kind? Those spheres of activity do not attract us. We want to lead full rich lives. You know the Government, through the Director of Education, is planning to erect schools for native girls; and by way of example a domestic school for the daughters of the nobles.
When we heard of this plan last year from the Director himself, his wife asked me if I would teach in this last school. I answered that I took much interest in the plan, but that the undertaking would be too great for me, because I had no training and would not be capable of filling such a position.
Mevrouw said that her husband wanted me just as I was; to help to lead the young hearts and to form the young characters, I must go among the children as an elder sister, and be an example to them. I felt highly honoured at the suggestion, but unfitted for the task as I was; I had no right to undertake it. Mevrouw said that if I really must have some preparation, then I could go for a little while to the normal school at Batavia, there would be no difficulty about that, it was only a question of my own wishes.
That my Father approved of this suggestion, you know already. When I went to Batavia I saw the Directress of the Girls' High School and she said that she would do everything in her power to help me. This cordiality from one who was almost a stranger, was very encouraging. Unsought and unexpected, this offer of assistance was simply thrown into my lap. I was in the clouds and thought that my departure for Batavia was only a question of weeks, or at most, of months.
I have already told you that we are not rich; though Father has a large income, at the same time, his expenditures are great, so that we have only enough to live quietly and to give our boys (boys must be helped before everything) to give the boys good educations.
I had also thought of the financial difficulties, and had made a plan so that the expense of my studies would not be too great a burden. It would cost my father twelve hundred florins for one year, a whole month's income, and no small sum for a household as large as ours; so my thoughts turned towards the medical school at Batavia, tuition in medicine is free, at least for boys (there have never been any women medical students). One can study medicine at the expense of the country. The students receive free lodging, a monthly allowance to cover cost of food and clothing, and there is free medical attendance.
When I was in Batavia I asked the Director of Education to which department the school of medicine belonged, and if girls would be admitted to it. Dr. A. had nothing against that, but naturally girls would be special students. My idea was to ask the Government to admit me upon the same footing as the men students. For every one with any brains at all can see how useful a woman doctor would be, especially among the women of the people, who usually would rather die than be touched by a strange man.
If the chief of the department of Education would support my petition there is no doubt but that the government would receive it favourably. I have already thought much about the medical profession, the length of time required for study alone disconcerts me. For one who is not yet twenty, seven years of study does not seem so long; but for one who has already passed that age, it is very long. And then as a full grown girl to have to sit in the beginning day after day, between boys of from thirteen to eighteen, and to be the only woman in a circle of men is not pleasant. But these are minor difficulties, which I could force myself to overcome.
There is still something else; Father and my friends are against it, though fortunately not unconditionally. Father objects because I should be the only girl among all those men and boys, such a thing would be unheard of here—and my friends object because they are afraid that I would not have the necessary nerve to go through with the studies.
Medicine is certainly a splendid calling, but not a profession for every one; a strong will and perseverance are not enough, nerves of steel are also a necessity. That is what worries my friends, so that they give me no peace.
Father thinks that teaching would be the best profession for me, as do also my friends in Batavia. They think that would be a suitable, fine work for me, where I could spread my ideas broadcast among the younger generation, the women and mothers of the future. As a teacher, even of a little circle, there would be a direct influence exerted upon that little circle, which would in time, widen and spread out so that many would follow my example.
You know my love for literature; it is one of my dreams to be able to accomplish something there. It is true one cannot serve two masters at the same time, but I see no reason why if I were a teacher, after being busy with the children all day, I could not work at literature at night. I want to do only one thing at a time and do that well.Entre ces deux mon coeur balance!As a doctor or something else, perhaps I should not have the opportunity to do that other work of which I am so fond, scribbling with my pen.
But teaching, the bringing up of children, is something so earnest and sacred in itself, that I should never be at peace if I attempted it, and felt myself unable to do it well.
As a teacher of the domestic school, I should be with the children the whole day, even in the evening and at night I should not be wholly free, because the children would be under my care. Such a post would bring with it heavy responsibilities and duties. Perhaps you think I am exaggerating the difficulties and responsibilities; but I cannot look upon it in any other way. To me it would be a crime to devote myself to the bringing up of children, future carriers of civilization to the race, and not to be fitted for that great task, which is so high and holy in my eyes.
What do you desire for me, Stella? Which road would you most gladly see me started upon? Tell me honestly and frankly what you really think. You have already shown yourself a good true friend; here is another opportunity.
There is still another profession open to us. A missionary doctor, personally unknown to us, but of good name and established reputation, has heard much of us from our friends and has offered of his own accord, to train us, free of cost, to be accoucheuses.
You will certainly have heard of the great native assembly in Modjowarno[2]in the residency of Soerabaja? The name of this missionary doctor is known in connection with "Work of civilization in India," and with the exhibition of women's work. You must know too that there is a crying need for mid-wives here in India. Every year in Java and the whole of Netherland-India, about twenty thousand women die in child-birth, and there are on an average thirty thousand still-born children; all from lack of intelligent care. In that direction there certainly stretches out before us a broad field of usefulness where we could be a blessing to our sisters.
We take a great interest in this cause, but it would be an untruth if we said that it was one of our dreams to be accoucheuses. But it would be one thousand times better to be mid-wives than to be dependent, held to narrow household cares through a compulsory marriage.
We have father's permission to go to Modjowarno and study to be accoucheuses when all other doors to independence shall have been closed to us. He is strongly opposed to a work of personal service; he thinks that kind of work would be degrading to our aristocratic hands. Our friends, at first, deplored the idea too, but they put their objections on such a noble, such a high plane! They thought that it would be hard for us because we had other dreams and ambitions. But would our desire to lighten the way and to be examples to others be reached in this manner? Even in civilized Europe, the calling of mid-wife is looked down upon, more or less. Would India with all its ceremony and form be able to appreciate the beauty of the work? People here would only see its humbleness; for everything that does not shine, is looked upon as of no worth by my poor countrymen. You understand very well that we personally would be indifferent to the lowliness of our calling; but the effect which that would have, should not be a matter of indifference to us.
If we want to break the path to freedom and independence for the Javanese woman, we must set a practical example. And a calling that is looked down upon and considered degrading would not find a following, and we want others to follow in our footsteps. Our example then must be something that compels respect and inspires emulation. We have not only our own wishes to consider, we must reckon with the prejudices and the character of the people whom we wish to enlighten.
Lately in Holland, and especially at the Hague, there has been a growing movement of interest in Indian art. The Association of "The East and West," an offspring of the Exposition of Woman's work of which you must know, has as one of its chief purposes, the encouragement of things Indian. There is a special division for art, composed entirely of artists of reputation.
They are planning to send an artist to India to help the cause of Indian Art in general, but especially in its practical application, and to protect it from the strange influences, above all those imported from Europe, which would contaminate its true character.
I have already told you that Roekmini has a great love for painting, and certainly some talent in that direction, and it is her desire to become a painter. Of course study in Europe would be necessary and that alas, is unattainable for her. Perhaps through our own efforts, we may be able to help little sister to realize her dream. Could we not get into communication with "East and West" and might not my sister by the help of that association be enabled to study drawing and painting at the Art academy at the Hague? Later she could return to Java and dedicate herself wholly to the art of her own country.
If all our plans should suffer ship-wreck, then Roekmini will fit herself to be an accoucheuse. She will become either an accoucheuse or a painter, but whichever she does she will do well. In either case she should study in Europe. In Holland she could take a full course in obstetrics and could be of great service then to the future mothers of her land.
The doctors here could only train her to be a mid-wife, who works under the direction of a doctor. To our indolent people with their exalted ideas, it would make a great difference whether an accoucheuse had been trained here or in Europe. With a European diploma, she would not be looked upon as degraded so much by her work and might still serve as an example, and as a light to be followed. We are going to apply for an appropriation from the government to pay for her education in Holland. We hope for the assistance of Prof. Hector Treub in Amsterdam, and of Dr. Stratz in the Hague, men who have already broken their lances many times for the cause of obstetrics in India. Through ignorance of this science, thousands of lives are needlessly sacrificed every year. In the general assembly also, attention was called to this cause by Van Kol. It is said that Kamerlid[3]is coming to India; I hope to see him and to have an opportunity to speak with him; my brother knows him very well.
The Government here in India has already taken steps toward the improvement of these sad conditions, of which I have spoken. In Java all doctors who wish to charge themselves with the training of mid-wives receive a monthly subsidy from the Government. The prospective mid-wives receive an allowance during their apprenticeship to cover the cost of board and other necessities, and after they have passed their examinations they are also paid by the Government.
After she had completed her studies in Europe, sister Roekmini would open a clinic in Java. There is only one fault to be found with the teachings of the doctors that we have here; that is obscurity, because it is impossible for the teachers to make themselves clearly understood by the students, when they speak different languages. Almost without exception, the doctors here have little or no command of our language. Malay and usually very much broken Malay at that, is the language which the doctors use towards the people. Hardly a single doctor speaks Javanese, and so very few of the Javanese people understand and speak Malay. The difficulties would fall away if some one with a thorough knowledge of the native language would undertake the task of training. Roekmini's birth will be of great help to her in this, for the natives are very loyal to their nobles.
On the 24th of October, just two weeks after the interruption of this letter I come back to it again. My card, sent meanwhile, will have told you of the sad state in which we have been; happily that is now past.
As you know already, Roekmini has been dangerously ill; twice her life seemed to hang upon a single thread. Now thank God, she is on the road to recovery and grows each day a little stronger. Today she has been out of doors.
I cannot tell you how happy and thankful we are that everything has gone so well with her. Sister Kardinah, too, is on her feet again. She can now take little walks and her poor thin cheeks are beginning to fill out. We have certainly had our share of suffering.
It is now so unhealthy everywhere on account of the drought. Poor country—so much hangs over you besides sickness. Many sawahs over the whole country have been destroyed by the great drought. The suffering is worse in the neighbouring town of Grobogan and we look toward Demak with fear and anguish; there, twenty-six thousand sawahs have already been destroyed and cholera is raging. The West Winds will soon come that drown the land every year. Poor country! that after the East Winds, dries up and perishes from drought, and after the West Winds, is drowned with floods. But I shall write no more about this misery, but only tell you what has happened during the last fourteen days.
Sister Kardinah also wishes to become a teacher, and has chosen as her specialty domestic science and cooking. Our plan is to remain together always and to work side by side for our common goal; the education of our people.
If fate is propitious we shall open a school, in which instruction will be given along broader lines than mere book education; it will include lessons in handiwork, household arts and kindred subjects, and there will also be classes in wood-carving and painting, and in mid-wifery. But a course in domestic science can only be taken in Holland; there is no opportunity here. Kleintje's forte is really music and her dearest dream was and still is, to become a musician, but that is absolutely impossible for her; so my little maid has resigned herself to the inevitable.
She is so eager to work for our people, and a teacher of the household arts could do a tremendous amount of good. More and more the Government realizes what a great advantage it would be to the people and their rulers, if they could learn economy.
We may appeal to the Government on behalf of Kleintje, and asked that she be placed at a school where she could be qualified to teach domestic economy. My little sister wishes to undertake the great task of teaching the women and future mothers of Java economy and frugality.
Lately the Government has shown that it wishes to place a premium upon education and enlightenment in its magistrates; this has been evinced by the latest regents'[4]appointments. According to custom, regents have been appointed by the law of heredity, from father to son, and if there is no son available, then some near relative of the last regent is appointed. It has never happened before that the new regent was no connection at all; but the two newly appointed men are progressive and enlightened and have been educated in Europe.
It is evident that the Government is in earnest in its endeavour to civilize and educate the people of Java, and especially the classes from which the Government servants are recruited.
The Heer Abendanon has said that there can be no argument against the statement that the intellectual awakening of the native people cannot progress appreciably as long as the woman is left behind in the forward march. The education of woman has always been an important factor in civilization.
In the last fifteen years, the Government of Netherland-India has sent four young Javanese to Holland at its own expense, to be educated there as teachers so that they may come back later to work for the good of their fellow countrymen. The Government realized that their work would have better results if they received their educations abroad. But the desire to do this did not come of itself to these men; it was suggested by those who had the awakening of India at heart.
With us it is different. In us the impulse, the longing to do something for our people was born in our own hearts, from deeply rooted conviction, and came through suffering, and through sympathy for the suffering of others.
We are only waiting for Father's permission now. Forgive a father, Stella, that he hesitates to give his children as hostages to an uncertain future. As innovators, as pioneers, we must stand alone, combat and overcome obstacles; our way will lead through much suffering and discouragement, it is certain. And what parents would wish to see their children zealous for suffering? What parents willingly see their children voluntarily dedicate themselves to lives of struggle and disappointment?
I do not know that I should go to Holland to study now, even if the opportunity were offered me, though to go has always been one of my greatest desires. Last year when it was suggested that I study at home I set myself against the proposition with all my might. If I studied at all, I wanted to study properly, and I could only do that in Holland or at Batavia. And as Holland was beyond my reach, my head was set upon Batavia.
I did not think I could study well at home, because I could not devote my whole time to my books. At my time of life there would be too many other claims upon me. Household and social duties would keep me too much from my work, it would be impossible to eliminate them if I remained at home. That was last year when Father was well and strong; now Father is that no longer alas!
Forgive a daughter, Stella, if once when she might have had the opportunity to fulfil her heart's wish, a wish upon which the future well-being of many others also depended, she held back, because she had not the heart to separate from a father who had given her love and care her whole life long and whose feeble health now demanded more than ever the care and affection which she alone could give.
Stella, I am a child, I am a daughter, not a woman alone, who can give herself wholly, and dedicate herself to a great and beautiful work. I am also a child bound by the bonds of tenderest love and gratitude to an old grey father, who has grown old and grey through care for his children. Of these children perhaps I am dearest.
Stella, you who know my great love for him, and next to that my love for what I regard as our calling, who know the strength of my affection for my sisters, will be able to understand what a hard conflict there is in store for me. I must be separated from my sisters, away from the work that I would do, or separated from Father, united with my sisters, and giving my all to our calling.
Father is weak now, needs care, and my first duty is to him. Oh Stella, I should never have a moment's peace if I carried on my own work far away from Father, knowing that he was suffering and needed me.
The work which we would do is noble. It will not be only for the present but for all time. Still I should never be able to answer to my own conscience if I should neglect my old, grey father for any cause whatever. He has the first right to me.
One of the precepts which I wish to inculcate is this: honour every living creature, respects their rights, their feelings; and even when it seems necessary, shrink from causing the least suffering to another. Should I be able to teach others what I myself neglected in practice?
I must never forsake my duty as a child, but neither must I forsake the duty which I owe to myself, for it is not my own happiness that depends upon its realization but great good to others. The problem now is to try and harmonize as far as possible these two duties which are diametrically opposed to each other. The only solution seemed to be to find some way by which I could stay with Father, and also go on with my studies.
I am going to study here at home, and fit myself for the profession of teaching, just as well as one can be fitted by self-study, when it is supported by a strong will, and perseverance.
I had already thought of this plan, but Mevrouw Abendanon gave it the impetus which pushed it forward, when she suggested some time ago that, without waiting for further arbitraments of capricious fate, we three go ahead and study here at home.
We have had a governess for two months; in her we have found a charming and affectionate friend. She is still very young, a girl of strong character who has left her family in the Fatherland and come here to earn her daily bread.
It is only unfortunate that this miserable sickness has come; otherwise we should be getting along famously. Naturally all this time I have not been able to look at a book. Annie Glazer, that is our teacher's name, has engagements which take her on some days, to another family here. But as soon as she can arrange it, she will give her entire time to us or to me alone most probably, for my poor sisters must not have anything in their hands, and above all in their heads, just now. They feel very miserable under the enforced idleness, but hands and heads are still weak.
What do you think about all of these high flying plans? If only you do not say, "Poor thing, you are trying to fly too high," I shall be satisfied. Do you know what I have noticed among our friends? That they have too high an opinion of us. They ascribe to us qualities and abilities which we do not possess. Sometimes we have to laugh at their enthusiasm. The saying that "Love is blind" is here applicable. You should only hear some of the things of which they think us capable. We feel our own limitations deeply, whenever our friends set us so in the sun. We feel small, but we feel grateful too for the love of which it speaks. One friend would be glad to see me work with my pen, for our people. I must found a journal devoted to their needs, and must be its editor, or I must become a writer on the foremost daily newspaper of India and write articles, by which those who are now fast sleeping will be frightened wide awake! Had I no reason for my assertion that "Love is blind"?
And, now I must think of parting from my sisters, the idea is frightful to them, and it is no less so to me. If they are successful in getting that for which they are asking they will be far from us in a strange land. It is fortunate that they have a brother there, who even as I, loves the sisters from his soul. This brother is full of enthusiasm and sympathy for our ideals, for in them he finds an echo of his own. We have made a compact with him, that when he has completed his studies, he will come back to us and we will work together.
It is an inspiration to us that he should share in the ideals of his sisters, it lifts us up, draws us forward, just as does the great sympathy and understanding which you have for us. There is still another young man, European, who only knows us through his mother, but who sympathizes with our cause and takes a lively interest in it. The sympathy and understanding of friends even when we do not know them personally, is a great support to us. We need this support very much. You will always give me yours. Will you not, Stella?