XXIII

_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.

Letters of a Javanese Princess · 第 34 / 90 题