_May 17th, 1902._[1]
I cannot tell you how great was my joy when at last I was able to begin
my studies. So far it has been but a review of what I once learned at
school more than ten full years ago. But there is one advantage in this
late study. I can understand now much more quickly and readily than I
could in my childhood, still it is a deep grief to me that I am now
twenty-three years old instead of thirteen. I could then look forward so
far. I could have carried on my studies indefinitely, but now time is
limited on account of my age.
First, I am working at Dutch so that I shall have it thoroughly in my
head, and then later I must study one or two of the native languages.
There, I have struck so hard with my pen that my pen-holder is broken
through the middle, but even that does not make me give up. Poor pen! I
have depended so much upon it and we have worked together happily for so
long, I must be a strange creature to lament over a broken pen-holder!
In April, we went on a journey; we paid our sister a visit. We left our
home without the least idea of seeing her again; we went to see another
sister, our eldest, who was ill. While we were there, we received an
urgent letter from little sister, begging us to come to Pemalang, to see
her. We set out early the next morning. How can I describe that meeting
to you? It was simply blissful! We did nothing the first few moments but
look at one another and hold one another tight. And I was so thankful to
see her well. She had never looked so fresh and blooming before. She had
roses in her cheeks. And beyond everything, it delighted me to see how
her husband valued and honoured her.
It is with great pleasure that I have learned to know my new
brother-in-law. He is a good, sincere man, with many fine traits. He is
very upright, just and true, and has a sympathetic heart. She is his
comrade, his advisor, his friend, and a mother as well to his three
children, who are as fond of her as if she were their own mother.
The children follow her footsteps everywhere, like little faithful dogs.
The oldest child, a boy of seven, had lived with his grandparents.
Sister took him in charge and the child is devoted to her now and loves
to be with her; though his grandparents did not keep him at arm's length
you may be sure. The two others are girls of six and four, she gives
them lessons at home: so I might almost call them little pupils, Stella.
He leaves the education of his children entirely to her, and naturally
sister will bring up her little daughters in our spirit. Sister has not
been able to realize her early dream, as she had dreamed it, but is the
task which she has undertaken less beautiful for that reason?
Our roads have divided, but both of us work for the same ideal; what
matters it which road one takes if it but leads to the same goal?
* * * * *
I long to go to Holland for many reasons; the first is study, the second
is that I want European air to blow upon the few remaining prejudices
that still cling to me, so that they may be wholly driven away. There
are not many left, it is true, but some obstinately remain. Only your
cold air, Stella, can make of me in truth, a free woman. To mention but
one of the persistent little prejudices, I should not be disturbed in
the least if I were alone in a room filled with European gentlemen. But
I can think of nothing, that could make me, under any possible
circumstances, receive alone, even one well-born Javanese young man, who
was unmarried. I think it is laughable, absurd, idiotic, but it is true.
I dare not talk to a strange man without a companion, and even if there
were company, I should think it tiresome, and should not feel at my
ease.
So you see that in spite of my strong ideas of freedom, I cannot get
away from the influence of my native environment, which keeps girls
strictly secluded. When the idea has been strongly inculcated that it is
not modest to show oneself to strange men's eyes, then it is a hard task
to break away from it. It must not remain always so, that prejudice must
go. How else shall we be able to work together with men? And that is
part of our plan. One way in which we hope to accomplish much good.
Only the air of Europe will be potent to separate me from the influence
of my Javanese education. Sometimes I laugh at myself and it drives away
the foolishness for a little, but it always comes back.
We returned from our journey on the 19th of April. Father came several
stations to meet us. He brought a long official telegram from the
Resident, which announced that the Heer Van Kol would come to Japara the
next day. That was a delightful greeting of welcome, and I found
something still nicer when I got home--your letter.
All the government officials along the whole line received the orders
from the Resident to wait upon the Heer Van Kol as he passed through. On
Sunday afternoon, at the stroke of three, the travellers arrived. With
Van Kol was a journalist, who served him as interpreter and guide, and
Father, who had waited for him at the border.
Van Kol had made a resolution never to lodge anywhere except in a hotel,
because he knows well the open hospitality of the country. But after he
had made the acquaintance of our family, and received a pressing
invitation, he stayed with us. Later we heard that it was we who had
been responsible for his faithlessness to his resolution. He thought us
worthy of scrutiny, he wished to observe the influence of European
education on girls of the aristocracy, and could not let the opportunity
pass. Happily we did not hear this till afterwards. The knowledge would
have made us constrained and self-conscious.
At the table, he talked almost constantly of his wife and children. It
was splendid to hear how this great man honours his wife. He met her
through correspondence, a point of resemblance there, Stella. He
corresponded with her at first about her literary work. It was only by
chance that she discovered her great gift, her talent for writing. She
was at that time a governess, and was staying with some friends at a
villa on the slope of the Pinanggoengan (their villa now in Prinsenhage
is called after that villa "Lali Djiwa"--soul's rest). One of the party
must write a description of the place, and they drew lots to decide
which one it should be. The lot fell upon her. She sent the article to a
magazine and the editor wrote asking her for more.
Van Kol has been to all of the places where he lived and worked in his
early days, and the children who formerly played with his daughter, he
found mothers themselves when he went back. But he still remembered them
and knew them all by their names.
Stella, we were happier that evening with the Heer Van Kol than we have
been in a long time.
At first we showed them examples of the artistic work of our people,
which called forth expressions of wonder and admiration, and Heer Van
Kol made some sketches of them. Some of the company moved away and the
chair next to him was empty; I slipped into it.