Part 10

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.

XXIV

_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

XXV

_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.

[2] In the Preanger Regencies Sundanese is spoken; it bears the same relation to Javanese that Scotch did to English in the 17th century.

XXVI

_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.